


Up, Up, Up

by riots



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Break Up, Drinking, M/M, Puppies, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3848206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riots/pseuds/riots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You always said you wanted a dog, you know.”</p><p>“When did I say that?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up, Up, Up

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhh, this fic is so self-indulgent pls forgive me. everything i do, i do for j ♥
> 
> mega love to ci, pip, emmikins, annie, and jo jo jo for keeping me on track and getting me to the end!!

“You’d be doing me a favour, dude,” Mark says, and he hoists the puppy up for Jackson’s inspection. “I’ve managed to offload all the others, so it’s just this guy left. You always said you wanted a dog, you know.”

“When did I say that?” Jackson asks. Mark drops the puppy into his arms unceremoniously and whoa, this little guy is heavy. He doesn’t remember what breed that Mark had said they were, but it’s gotta be something Spitz, because this dog is little, hefty, and furry as heck. He’s also pawing at Jackson’s shoulder and chewing wetly at the brim of his hat. “Hey. Stop that.”

“Look,” Mark grins. “He totally likes you.” He pats Jackson’s shoulder. “He’s a perfect match, anyway. Runty, just like you.”

He doesn’t look runty. He’s got oversized paws and those sharp little puppy teeth and when Jackson finally pries him off his hat, he goes after Jackson’s fingers instead. “Ow, little dude.” The dog continues tenderizing his fingertips without notice. “Hey,” Jackson says to Mark, “you’re an asshole, you know that?” Mark grins at him, because he doesn’t care, and because he knows he’s won. 

“Thanks, man, you’re a pal. Besides, you need something to get you out of the house.” Before Jackson can reply Mark’s already gathering up a bunch of puppy supplies and shoving them into a bag for him. “Alright, this is everything you’ll need for him, although you’re gonna have to go out and buy some food -” He wrestles the bag over Jackson’s wrist and smirks. “- like, ASAP, because this guy is a pig.” He tucks a leash into the bag and then he’s steering Jackson out the door.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Jackson says, dragging his heels. The puppy has moved on to turning his sweater cuff into a slobbery mess. “Wait, where -”

“Class,” Mark says, _duh_ written all across his face. “I told you I needed your help with something.” He wiggles his eyebrows and then waves over his shoulder as he heads off.

Jackson frowns. Mark is already halfway down the hall, quickly outpacing him because he’s not carrying a fifteen pound puppy with too much fur. “You never said it would be this!” Jackson calls after him. The puppy sneezes against his chin and Jackson sighs, looking down at him. Mark hadn’t been wrong. Jackson’s always liked dogs, and every time he comes back from visiting his parents, he spends a good week whining about how he doesn’t have one of his own. He just never really expected that one would literally fall into his lap.

“You got a name, little man?” Jackson asks. The puppy blinks up at him sleepily and Jackson nods, shifting his weight in his arms. “Yeah, I thought so.”

 

 

The first thing the puppy does when Jackson brings him home is make himself comfortable and pee on the floor. Jackson groans and sets down his supplies in the kitchen. “You know, little dude, you’re not making a very convincing argument for keeping you around.” The puppy sniffs at the puddle and then turns tail, running out of the room. “Yeah, thanks for the help, really appreciate that.” There’s a thump in the other room, and Jackson does his best not to think about what it could be.

That’s how Yugyeom finds him, on his hands and knees, grumbling to himself as he cleans it up. “Hyung, why does it smell like...um…” He eyes Jackson and clutches at the strap of his bag. 

“Give me some credit,” Jackson says indignantly. He wonders what he’s done to lead Yugyeom to believe he’s the kind of guy who’d piss on the floor in the middle of the day. He’d be more annoyed with the kid, but he looks so earnestly worried that it wouldn’t stick. “We have a new roommate,” Jackson announces. He gestures towards the other room, where he can hear the click of nails on the floor. “Go say hello.”

A furry little head pokes around the doorframe and the worry melts out of Yugyeom’s eyes, quickly replaced with excitement. “He’s so cute!” he exclaims, shedding his bag and dropping down to a squat, reaching for the puppy, who is more than happy to accept his affection. His head is almost swallowed up by Yugyeom’s hands, his entire body wagging with happiness. “What’s his name?”

Now that’s a good question. Jackson straightens up, tosses out the dirty paper towels, and he thinks about it. The puppy lifts a paw to rest on Yugyeom’s knee, gnawing enthusiastically at one of Yugyeom’s bracelets. “Little Dude,” Jackson decides. The dog tilts his head. “Yeah. Little Dude.”

“Little Dude?” Yugyeom asks slowly, raising his eyebrows. Jackson stares him down, daring him to say something, but Yugyeom just shrugs. “Well, okay.” He grimaces, trying to extricate his hand from Little Dude’s sharp little teeth. “He doesn’t seem to mind much, anyway.”

“He loves it,” Jackson says, and he bends down to scoop the puppy up again. Little Dude is fearless, letting out a sharp, cheerful little bark and licking at his nose. Jackson thinks they’ll get along fine. “Is this cool?” Jackson asks Yugyeom, turning towards him. “I mean, I was pretty much as surprised by this as you are.”

“Yeah, of course,” Yugyeom says. He smiles at Jackson and his eyes do that soft, worried thing they’ve been doing way too often lately. Jackson pointedly looks away and focuses on the tiny holes Little Dude is working into the hem of his sweater. “If you like him, I like him.”

Sometimes Jackson feels a little guilty about the way that Yugyeom always folds with him, just a little bit too close to hero worship. “Alright,” Jackson says. “It’s settled.” It’s not like he’s been doing all that much lately anyway. Just work mostly, and letting some of his friends drag him out of the house to look at him pityingly and ply him with alcohol. This was probably Mark’s not-so-subtle plan anyway. “I promise not to let him chew on your shoes.”

“Good,” Yugyeom says. “Those are really expensive, you know.” He says it sternly, like he could ever stay mad at Jackson. It’s still not believable. Jackson holds out Little Dude to him anyway, lets him pet the puppy behind the ears while Jackson deals with getting whapped in the face with his tail. Not so bad, honestly.

 

 

It takes him a solid minute before he realizes that the noise he’s hearing is his phone ringing in his pocket. “Where are you?” Youngji asks, irritated. “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago. I have a schedule, Jackson Wang!”

He pulls his phone away from his face long enough to check the time and frown. Huh. Would you look at that. “Woke up late,” he mutters, stifling a yawn. “Had to walk the dog.” Which is why he is now wandering around his neighbourhood in his grodiest pair of pajama pants while Little Dude carefully investigates some garbage on the ground. He watches him lick at the sharp corner of a chips packet and then pee on it. Yeah, well done, buddy.

“You don’t have a dog,” Youngji says. He can practically hear the petulant pout on her lips. “C’mon, Jackson, I need to pick out a gift for Gukjoo unnie. Can you please put on some pants and get here?”

He has to give it to Youngji, she’s definitely persistent. No matter how much he’d rather spend his mornings inside, dead to the world, especially lately, she’s never let him wiggle out of their weekly coffee dates. “I have one now,” Jackson says. Little Dude marches ahead, pulling hard on his new leash like he’s got somewhere to be. “And I have pants on. Pretty sure it’s illegal to walk your dog without any. Probably kinda immoral too.”

She takes a few seconds before she replies. Probably trying to gauge how honest he’s being. She should know by now, though, that Jackson can’t really muster up the energy to bullshit before noon. Plus, after being woken up at the crack of dawn for the past week by fat furry paws on his face and a dense weight on his chest, he’s pretty sure that Little Dude isn’t imaginary. “Where did you get a _dog_?”

Her suspicious tone is totally unwarranted. “Mark gave me one,” Jackson replies indignantly. Little Dude looks back at him for a moment, then strains at his leash. “I get it,” he tells the dog, “I’m coming.” Little Dude’s definitely not listening. He’s a lot more interested in the old lady and her tiny dog across the street. Ladies’ man

This is apparently the right answer. “Well, okay,” Youngji says. “Bring it with you. I like dogs.”

“I know,” Jackson says, and this time he yawns for real. Little Dude takes a moment to snuffle at a plant growing through a crack in the pavement and then sneezes. Jackson nudges him away from the plant before he can start chewing on it. “I’ve seen the guys you date.”

It’s a good thing that she’s not there with him, because he’s fairly certain that that would’ve earned him a punch in the face. “Ooooh, Jackson Wang,” she says, he’s honestly kind of impressed at how she manages to sound both bubbly and deadly all at the same time. He’s totally gonna get it when he finally shows up. “You’d better hurry up.”

Jackson looks down at Little Dude, licking at a dark spot on the pavement. Gross. He tugs on the leash and Little Dude raises his shoulders, trying to stay put. He’s strong for such a little fluffball. “Yeah, no problem,” he says. Little Dude paws at the stain and Jackson grimaces. 

It’s not until after Youngji has hung up that Jackson realizes that she’s halfway across the city. He hadn’t thought about that. “I guess you’re learning how to ride the subway,” Jackson tells Little Dude. The puppy cocks his head, one ear flopping forward. This should be good.

 

 

After a quick detour home to change into something that he’s washed in the past month, Jackson and Little Dude saddle up and head out to meet up with Youngji. The puppy is definitely excited to be out and about. He strains at the leash, charging ahead and looking up excitedly, waiting to be appreciated. He is a pretty handsome pup, Jackson thinks, and he definitely gets his share of women cooing over him, bending down to pet his head. “How old is he?” 

“A few months,” Jackson hedges. He’s pretty sure he should know, and he’s got a kind of vague recollection of when Mark’s dog gave birth a while back, but also he didn’t care a ton. All he knows is that Little Dude is still little enough to pee on the floor when he’s stoked on visitors. “He’s real rambunctious.”

“He’s so sweet,” the woman says, cradling his little head in her hands as she looks up at Jackson. He doesn’t miss the way her eyes take him in, and then Little Dude isn’t the only one preening under the attention. Maybe chicks really do dig dogs. Yugyeom’s romcoms have something to them. “What’s his name?”

It’s sheer luck that her train comes in right then, because Jackson is fairly certain that as many points as a puppy might get him, naming one Little Dude probably takes them all away. Too bad, because she’s cute. He gives her a little wave as the train squeals to a stop. She waves in return, but he’s pretty sure she’s waving at Little Dude, not him. Swing and a miss.

“Next time, buddy,” Jackson says, looking down, but the puppy isn’t paying him any attention. His ears are flattened down against his head and he shrinks back until he bumps into Jackson’s shin, tail limp behind him. Uh oh. With a grunt, Jackson hoists him up. “You better not be afraid of vacuum cleaners, too,” Jackson says, and Little Dude licks nervously at Jackson’s knuckles, tag wagging frantically and eyes too wide.

He’s no expert on dogs, but it’s pretty easy to tell that Little Dude is super not on board with the giant noisy trains and the buzz of the crowd around them. Honestly, he’s too big for Jackson to be carrying him around like this, but he kinda doesn’t wanna put him down again. Little Dude whines a little, and Jackson can feel him shaking as he burrows his nose under the collar of Jackson’s jacket. Ohhhh. Idea.

It takes a bit of finagling, and Little Dude is _not_ patient, squirming around and licking indiscriminately at any exposed skin he can find on Jackson, but he finally gets him situated in the front of his jacket, a warm heavy weight over his belly. “Better?” Jackson asks. Little Dude rests his chin contentedly against the V of Jackson’s jacket zipper and huffs against Jackson’s hand. Alright, cool.

The dog still flattens his ears against his head as their train thunders into the station, but he’s not shaking so much against Jackson’s stomach. Jackson half expects him to hide his head again, but Little Dude is a lot more interested in looking around now that they’re here. Jackson ignores the way the businessman next to him is eyeing them and pets idly at Little Dude’s head.

This isn’t so bad, actually. His phone vibrates with a message, and his arm is starting to ache from cradling Little Dude’s body, but he’s not barking like crazy or anything. He sways with the movement of the train and at the next stop, he watches a mother and son get on. The kid is maybe six or seven, and though he’s definitely got a tight grip on his mom’s hand, he’s eyeballing Little Dude with a kind of wistful hopefulness. Jackson knows how that goes. He looks up at the kid’s mom, raising his eyebrows in question. She sighs and pushes the kid forward.

Little Dude really digs that whole adoring fans thing. Jackson has to tighten his grip so that the puppy doesn’t wriggle right out of his jacket, so excited to be pet. “He likes you,” Jackson tells the kid, who’s gingerly patting the top of Little Dude’s head. “You’re really good with dogs.”

The kid lights up like it’s Christmas morning, and even his mom manages a tired smile at that. Little Dude yips, loudly enough that it attracts the eyes of just about _everyone else on the train_. “Easy,” Jackson chides, tapping him on the top of his head. He miscalculated, though, taking his hand off the pole to quiet the puppy, and when the train jerks to a stop, he nearly tumbles. 

The kid giggles at him. “You didn’t see anything,” Jackson tells him, throwing him a wink, and then he slides through the door.

Having Little Dude snuggled up against him helps keep them both warm against the early spring chill, but it doesn’t take all that long before the dog starts squirming around and making a play to leap for freedom. That’s just gonna end poorly, so Jackson decides to head it off at the pass, unceremoniously plopping Little Dude back down on the ground. 

Now that they’re away from the subway trains, his puppy’s got a lot more confidence. He marches forward, pulling at the leash and sniffing at everyone who passes, and Jackson grins down at him. Mark wasn’t really wrong when he said that they were a good match. Handsome, big personalities. They stop at a corner, and Little Dude twists back to look at him. “Don’t let it go to your head, though,” Jackson warns. Little Dude blinks at him.

He finds Youngji standing outside their usual coffee shop, huddled over her coffee while she texts someone furiously. Jackson gives Little Dude some slack on the leash and he rushes up to her, pawing at the toe of one of her shoes. It has exactly the kind of reaction that the puppy was looking for. Youngji lets out a squeal, stuffing her phone and coffee into Jackson’s hands before she drops to a crouch. “Oh, he’s _beautiful_ ,” she croons, ruffling his fur and easily dodging his too-enthusiastic licking. “Hello, lovely boy.”

She’s not wrong. With his thick, fuzzy fawn and white coat and black face mask, he’s a pretty good-looking specimen. “Hello to you too,” Jackson replies, but Youngji doesn’t bite. She’s too busy adoring Little Dude. “Sure is nice to see you, Youngji, I’m so glad I dragged my ass out here for you to talk to my dog.”

“He’s better conversation,” Youngji says sweetly, straightening and smoothing down her skirt. “And he’s not the one who promised me he’d be here over an hour ago.” She gives him a sound punch for that and he grimaces, automatically pouting at her. He totally deserved it, but still. “You’ve been making a bad habit of that, lately.”

He lets her hook her arm through his, steering them off towards the shops. “I have not,” he lies, and Youngji tosses her hair over her shoulder, fixing him with a look that tells him exactly what she thinks of that. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “I guess I’ve just been busy.”

“You’re full of shit,” she says serenely, but there’s still a tightness to her mouth when she turns to look at him. He pointedly looks away, choosing instead to pull his arm out of her grip and bend to brush a hand over the back of Little Dude’s head. He can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What’s his name, anyway?”

“Little Dude,” Jackson says, and Youngji groans, wrinkling up her nose at him. “What? It’s a great name.” It’s not like the dog’s been objecting, anyway. He scratches at Little Dude’s ruff and frowns. 

Youngji nudges him with a knee. “You can’t name your dog the same thing that you named your dick,” she says reproachfully.

He straightens in a rush. “I didn’t name my dick!” he protests, and Youngji grins at him, grabbing for his arm again. “I mean, I didn’t name it _that_ , anyway.” 

“I’m _so_ sure,” Youngji says. Little Dude charges ahead of them, trips over his own big paws, and sneezes. Yeah, he’s Jackson’s dog alright. 

They round the corner, and Jackson can tell from the way that she lifts her chin, that things are about to get real serious. “So,” she says. “Are you coming to the party at Jinah’s on Friday?”

Jinah’s. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s gonna be there. “I don’t know,” Jackson hedges, tightening his grip on the leash and avoiding Youngji’s eyes. “I think I might have a shift that night.”

“If you’re going to lie to me, can you at least make up a new one?” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her mouth twist. “You’ve ‘worked’ the past three weekends in a row. Are you just never going to hang out with us anymore?”

Jackson rubs a hand over his face. He’d kinda been hoping that this would just be a nice, boring shopping trip. “Do we have to have this conversation again?” he asks. 

“We’ve never _had_ it yet,” Youngji says. Her voice sounds frayed enough that he looks over finally, guiltily. “Jackson Wang. You and Kangjoon broke up months ago, and you have done your best to crawl in a hole since. You didn’t break up with _us_ too, you know.”

“Ditching you? I didn’t know that that was an option,” Jackson says, grinning at her. She doesn’t smile back. “Look. It’s just.” How does he explain this? It’s not that he really wants to put her in the middle like this but it’s just...complicated. “You guys were his friends first. I just figured that he got you guys in the divorce.”

Youngji clicks her tongue. “Are you that afraid of seeing him?” she asks. Jackson turns over a few things in his head, trying to find the right flippant answer, but he comes up short, and he doesn’t end up saying anything. She sighs again, and then he feels her hand stroke down the back of his head. He can’t help but turn into the touch. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “I thought you were being a drama queen.”

“Maybe I am,” Jackson says. He hadn’t realized they were stopped at a corner, and Little Dude is sniffing curiously at his pant leg. Must be wondering what’s up. Jackson smiles down at him. “Don’t worry about it, alright? It’s cool.” Sure, it’s been a long time since he hung out at Jinah’s with the usual crowd, but he’ll get used to it. He’s still got Youngji, and Mark, who half counts, although at this point he’s more like one of Jackson’s limbs than a friend. “We gotta get something for Gukjoo noona, right?”

Youngji looks at him for a very long time before she answers. “‘We’?” she scoffs. “Get your own birthday present, I never said you could tack your name on with mine.” She will, though, and they both know it. Jackson’s always been kind of terrible at shopping for girls, and in the end, Youngji’s got better taste, anyway. “Why do I even bother with you?”

“You love me?” Jackson suggests. Maybe that shouldn’t have been a question.

Youngji squeezes his arm. “I do,” she says, long-suffering, and she bestows one of her hundred-watt smiles on him. “Now, come on. We’ve already wasted enough time. I have some shopping to do.” She bumps her hip into his. “If I can be sure that Kangjoon won’t be there on Friday, will you come?”

Something sick twists in Jackson’s belly. “We’ll see,” he says. “I gotta work, remember?” She snorts, and he shrugs, giving the leash in his hand a little flick. “Hey, show us the way, fearless leader,” Jackson tells Little Dude. Naturally, the puppy sights a cat, darting between Jackson’s legs to go make a new friend. “Aw, come on, buddy, gimme a break.”

Youngji grins at him. “Maybe Little Dude is a good name for him,” she says, voice sly. “You can’t control him either.”

“Hey!”

 

 

Jackson hasn’t been this nervous to show up at a party since he was like fifteen and showing up at his first high school party. Youngji had promised him, over and over again, that Kangjoon wouldn’t be here tonight, and it _was_ Gukjoo’s birthday. Time to man up and knock on that door.

He doesn’t get the chance to. Jackson raises his hand and the door is wrenched open in front of him, someone stumbling out into him. “I’ll be back in a few - oh shit, sorry. Wait, _Jackson_?”

“Hey, hyung,” Jackson says through a mouthful of t-shirt. He only manages to peel himself away for a second before Joon is folding him up in an enormous bear hug, squeezing him so enthusiastically that Jackson’s kinda struggling to breathe. Yeah, he missed this.

“Where’ve you been?” Joon demands, pulling back and giving Jackson a little shake. “Swear to God, dude, it’s like you just vanished off the planet.” Jackson may be free of the hug, but that doesn’t mean he’s free of Joon. Joon hooks one solid arm around his shoulders and drags him into the apartment. “Hey! Look who I found!”

There is something really gratifying about how the room erupts in noise, and Jackson gets about four and a half group hugs in the space of three minutes. Youngji is the last, waiting for everyone to take their turn before she pulls him in. She doesn’t say anything, but the little quirk of her eyebrow says enough. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mutters, and she blinks her big eyes innocently, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I get it.” He was worrying for nothing. These are still his friends.

“Get what?” Youngji asks, smiling mischievously. He swats at her and she dodges easily, sliding away.

When the noise dies down, Jackson spreads his arms. “Man,” he says. “You’d think I was dead or something. The rumours were greatly exaggerated, I promise.”

“I knew you’d come to my birthday,” Gukjoo pronounces, and then her expression gets dramatically stern. “So where’s my present?” She can only keep the straight face for so long, the corners of her mouth quirking up. “Come on, Jackson, cough it up.”

“When I get a beer,” he insists, and then Gukjoo is throwing an hand in the air, booming out a demand for a drink.

It’s easier than he’d worried it would be, to relax into old patterns. With a bottle in his hand and Joon’s arm flung over his shoulders in an affectionate headlock, it almost feels like it used to. The sense of deja vu is so unreal that it takes Jackson nearly half an hour to realize that he’s been scanning the room, looking for someone that isn’t there. His stomach sinks and he takes a few hasty swallows of beer to drown the feeling. 

He’s usually pretty good with keeping his drinking within the realm of ‘fun and relaxed’ and not ‘that one guy slurring and sobbing in the corner’, but tonight, he’d much rather be too drunk to feel Kangjoon’s absence so keenly. It’s the first time he’s hung out with their old crowd since the breakup, and it all feels kind of surreal. They were Kangjoon’s friends first, all of his interactions with them were kinda filtered through him. He can’t decide if it’s like finally putting on a pair of glasses, or taking them off.

“Taking them off,” he says, seeing Joon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and offering him a smile. It makes sense, at least, right now, because everything’s all warm and fuzzy around the edges, and it’s softened the hurt. “Good old beer.”

Joon pats Jackson’s head with a heavy hand, making him wobble where he stands. “Kid,” he says, part fondness and part concern, “you’re making exactly no sense. You are _drunk_.”

“Yes,” Jackson agrees. He has a death grip on Joon’s arm, the floor shifting uneasily around beneath him. It’s been a while since Jackson had to use his sea legs. “Where’s Youngji?”

He sways to the side and Joon catches him, manhandling him onto the couch. Joon’s barely sat down next to him when Jackson climbs on top of him, throwing himself head and shoulders into Joon’s lap. “Jesus, dude, watch it,” Joon grumbles. Jackson frowns for a moment, and then Joon wedges a hand under his head, shifting him so that his face is less perilously close to Joon’s dick. Ah. Whoops. “She went home, man, hours ago. Like just about everyone else.”

“Left me,” Jackson grumbles. “Rude.”

“Well, I’m still here,” Joon says, amused. He raises his hands. “What am I, dog shit?” Jackson grins and Joon jabs him in the stomach, gently. Neither of them want a puke situation on their hands. “It was good to have you around tonight. I missed you.”

Jackson feels pretty nice and sleepy right here. “Missed you too,” he says. He reaches out blindly and pets at Joon’s belly. Joon snorts and catches his wrist. “You’re so nice,” Jackson tells him, “even when I’m a bad friend. Sooooo nice. Like a real hyung. My hyung.”

“And you’re my favourite dongsaeng,” Joon promises. “As long as you don’t drool on me or throw up on my shoes.”

“Deal,” Jackson says blearily. Right now, that’s going to require him sitting very, very still. Maybe Jinah will let him crash on her couch. He’d be okay if he never had to move again.

Joon’s saying something else, something about the beer Jackson had spilled on his front an hour ago, but Jackson’s not listening anymore. No matter how hard he tries, his ears are still trained to listen for the mention of a very familiar name, and he just heard something from the door, where Minwoo’s pulling on his shoes and getting ready to head out.

“Too bad he wasn’t here tonight,” Minwoo says, grunting as he tugs on one of his shoes, and Jackson cranes his head to listen. “Did he say why?”

“Yeah,” Jinah says. Her voice is quiet, but Jackson still catches it. “I guess his girlfriend had a family emergency or something and he wanted to be there.”

Jackson shoves himself upright, his head spinning. His stomach rolls with something that has very little to do with the beer he’s been drinking tonight. New girlfriend. Imagine that. He uses Joon’s shoulder to lever himself to his feet, grimacing as he wobbles but eventually steadies. 

“Whoa, relax,” Joon says, but Jackson knows that he heard it too. “You’re in no state to go anywhere right now.”

Jackson pulls away from him. “Need to go home,” he says firmly. He’s absolutely certain of that fact. There’s no way he can stay here now. “Home. Yeah. Goin’ home.”

“Jackson,” Joon calls, and Jackson hates the stupid pity in his eyes, and when he pushes past Minwoo and Jinah in the doorway, he hates the way they both fall abruptly silent, exchanging significant looks. “Jackson. C’mon, man.”

“Home,” Jackson says again, and he struggles into his shoes, nearly taking a header when he finally wrestles his heel into the second one. Minwoo reaches out to catch him, but Jackson rights himself and shakes his head. He doesn’t meet his eyes. “Thanks for having me,” Jackson tells Jinah. “It was fun.” He doesn’t exactly sound convincing, but he doesn’t actually care right now.

Jinah’s fingers snag in his shirt sleeve. “Do you need me to call you a cab?” she asks. “You’re pretty…”

“Are you doubting me?” Jackson asks, and he smiles a little. “You think I can’t get home by myself?” Jinah raises her eyebrows, her eyes getting big, and it softens his smile, makes it real. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, pivoting to flash a big ole double thumbs up to the whole room. “I’ll be fine, right?” He waves and heads out the door before any of them can answer.

As he heads out to the doorstop to call a cab, Jinah shoots off a flurry of texts. Joon’s are just a series of typoed attempts to get Jackson to come back up, and one mysterious one that’s nothing but dolphin emojis. Nice. He’s made up his mind, though. He’s going home, so that he can pass out and stop thinking about how he’s already been replaced. The whole deja vu thing is less appealing, now. He scuffs the toe of his shoe against the curb and stuffs his hands into his pockets, staring out at the street, waiting for his ride.

 

 

He can’t unlock his front door. “Fuck,” Jackson mumbles, slapping his hand against the wall. Yugyeom’s out at Bambam’s, and he’d taken Little Dude with him so he wouldn’t be home alone for the night, and Jackson’s pretty much screwed. He glares at his keys, takes a deep breath, and aims again. It skitters across the lock and gouges a chunk of paint out of the door. Whoops. “Goddamnit,” Jackson mutters. He’s so tired and the hall is all spinny and he really just wants to get in bed. Ugh.

He knocks his forehead against the door a few times, eyes closed in a vague attempt to steady himself and then he straightens. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, okay, okay. Let’s do this.” His brow creasing in concentration, Jackson takes another fierce stab at it.

After a few seconds of fumbling with the lock and grumbling under his breath, his hand slips against the doorknob and the door swings open. “Oh,” he says, blinking. He must’ve already gotten it. He shrugs and stumbles into the apartment, kicking off his shoes, and shutting the door behind him.

He’s drunker than he’d thought he was. He fumbles around blindly in his dark apartment, smashing his toes off at least three corners and his head off a doorframe. “Jesus Christ,” he hisses, rubbing at his face. This night has gone downhill _way_ fast. Another few steps and his hand collides with something. A noisy smash echoes in the empty apartment and Jackson stops for a moment, his head tipping back in frustration. “Fuck this.” 

His room is down the hall, but it’s too far to go right now. He feels around until he finds the couch, flopping down on his face. Right now, it feels like the most comfortable place in the entire world. He shoves his face into the couch cushion and groans, squirming down and getting comfortable. His back will probably hate him in the morning, but right now, that is the least of his worries. Time for sleep.

 

 

Jackson wakes up with a dry mouth and a heavy weight settled on his chest. “When’d you get home?” he asks, reaching out to pet his puppy, but something with sharp claws swats at him instead. He pries open his gummy eyes to see a Siamese cat sitting on him, eyes slitted in annoyance. “You are not my dog,” he says. The cat looks disdainfully away.

“No, she’s not.” Jackson’s head snaps back, and he groans at the sudden throb in his skull. “Good morning.” There’s a guy standing over him, wearing a worn out sweatshirt with a faded logo and a mug of something that smells delicious.

“I know you,” Jackson says slowly, because he does. He lives on Jackson’s floor, and they sometimes say hello as they pass each other on the way to the elevator or the garbage chute. He doesn’t even know his name, though. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

The guy smirks. “Maybe have a look around.”

Despite the nauseous lurch of Jackson’s stomach and the blinding pain behind his eyes, Jackson does. And unless Yugyeom has drastically rearranged their entire apartment overnight, he does not live here. “Huh,” he says.

“I was going to call the cops,” the guy tells him conversationally, and Jackson swallows, “but Nora seems to like you.” His cat turns back to Jackson and digs her claws in, making Jackson yelp. “Plus, you smell like you bathed in beer, so I figured it was probably an honest mistake.”

“Dude, I am so sorry,” Jackson says. He tries to sit up without somehow dislodging Nora, but she’s a lot less amenable to being jostled around than Little Dude is, and she leaps gracefully off him, slinking around his legs. Jackson winces, pressing a hand to his temple. Does he have a goose egg? What the hell. “I didn’t...your door was open.”

After a second’s hesitation, the guy holds out the mug for Jackson to take. Coffee. Nectar of the gods. “I guess I brought it on myself then, huh?” Jackson scrubs at the sleep in his eyes, yawning so hard that his jaw cracks, and the guy sits down in the chair across from him. “I’m Jaebum, by the way.”

“Jackson,” he replies, sticking out a hand. Jaebum leans forward to shake it. He’s got this amused tilt to his eyebrows, like he’s not sure yet what he thinks of Jackson. That’s a point in his favour, considering that Jackson just accidentally broke into his house drunk and slept on his couch. He’s gotta thank that cat. 

“Good night?” Jaebum asks. Even with his hair a mess, in some ancient sweatshirt, he’s a handsome guy. High cheekbones, sharp jaw, dark eyes. He’s got no right looking that good when Jackson feels like a reanimated corpse. 

Jackson takes a long sip of coffee, the hot burn of it distracting from the ache of last night. For a few moments, at least, he’d been more concerned with the awful taste in his mouth and possible break-and-entry charges than what his ex is doing. It’d been nice. “Yeah, uh, something like that, I guess.” His phone goes off in his pocket, and Jackson wrenches it out to see three missed calls from Yugyeom and winces. That kid always worries too much. “Shit, I gotta go before my roommate reports me as a missing person.” He sets down the coffee mug carefully and gives Nora one last pet. She arches up under his hands and purrs in appreciation. “Look, dude, thank you for not getting me arrested and the coffee, it’s much appreciated.”

“You’re welcome,” Jaebum says, leaning back. Nora leaps up into his lap, turning around to watch Jackson leave. “Next time, find your own apartment.” He’s teasing, but there’s a serious edge to his voice, and Jackson flushes. It’s been a long time since he was drunk enough to pull a stunt like this. Embarrassing. 

“Deal,” Jackson promises, flashing a thumbs up. He doesn’t even bother to put his shoes on as he’s leaving, just grabs them and bolts out the door. As if he just drooled all over a stranger’s couch. It’s just the cherry on top of a pretty terrible night. Jackson rubs hard at his eyes and grimaces. Time to go find Yugyeom. Hopefully he hasn’t called in the troops to look for his body yet.

 

 

Three days later, Jackson comes home from a walk with Little Dude to find a post-it stuck to his door. _you owe me a potted plant_ , it says. Tired from his walk, Little Dude plops down next to Jackson’s feet while he puzzles it out. He takes his time pulling the note down and unlocking the door before it finally clicks. The crash he’d heard in Jaebum’s apartment. “Shit,” he mutters. Little Dude chews placidly on his shoelaces.

“Where do you get potted plants?” Jackson asks as he walks through the door. He has to wedge a toe underneath Little Dude’s belly and hoist him into the apartment. Maybe they went a little too far today. “Like a nice one, not some wilted crap from the grocery store.”

Yugyeom blinks at him from the kitchen table. “A florist…?” he suggests, looking confused. He sets his pen down on his notebook. “What do you need a plant for?”

“I got a debt.” Jackson frowns down at Little Dude, now lolling across his feet, tongue hanging out of his mouth. “C’mon, buddy, I gotta close the door.” Little Dude just wags his tail. In the end, Jackson has to physically drag the dog inside before he can lock the door behind them, and he drops down next to him. “You’re dumb, you know that?” he says, rubbing Little Dude’s belly. The puppy just wags his tail harder.

“Does this have something to do with the other night?” Yugyeom asks. A smile pulls at his lips. “I thought you were going to be hungover for the next month.” It’d be too much to ask Yugyeom to stop watching him with those big eyes and trying too hard to make him laugh, but at least now, he’s more willing to give Jackson a breather. He’s more willing to believe that Jackson can function as a human being. It’s kinda nice.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” Jackson grumbles, but Yugyeom knows better than that and just grins at him. It rly doesn’t help that he’s got a track record of this shit. It’s just that he used to have someone to drag him home. “Anyway, it’s not like you can talk. I think we both remember Mark’s last birthday, am I right?”

Colour immediately floods up Yugyeom’s cheeks and he buries his face in his hands. “Shut up,” he whines, and Little Dude rolls over again, pushing himself onto his feet and waddling over to paw at Yugyeom’s leg. “That was one time!”

“Of course,” Jackson says sagely. He’s just pleased that they’ve redirected from a dangerous topic. He straightens up to snag Yugyeom’s highlighter, drawing an enormous dick across one of the pages of his notebook. Yugyeom squawks in protest. “You’ve been studying for, like, ever. Come help me buy a plant.” He fixes his eyes on Yugyeom for a moment before decisively looking down and adding artful pubes to the oversized balls. He can do this all day. Next to him, Little Dude jumps up, his paws pushing insistently at Yugyeom’s thigh for attention.

“Ugh,” Yugyeom says, but he’s already sliding back out of his chair, just like Jackson knew he would. Yugyeom’s always been easy for him. “Why can’t you just find one on your own, hyung?”

There are a lot of answers that Jackson could give to that, with the closest to the truth having something to do with how he’s vaguely paranoid now about running into Kangjoon with his girl on his arm and he wouldn’t know what to do. That’s the kind of answer that would worry the kid, though, so Jackson just grins. “I need your expert eye, Yugyeomie,” he says, ruffling Yugyeom’s hair. He may be taller than Jackson now, but he’s not too tall for this. “You’re not gonna let me down are you?”

“Never,” Yugyeom says solemnly. 

He tidies away his things and as Jackson bends down to grab his shoes Little Dude immediately rushes into action, winding between their legs and wagging his tail hopefully. “Hey,” Jackson says, frowning and nudging him away. “No, no way. You just tired yourself out. If I take you with us, I’m just gonna end up carrying your fat ass around instead. You stay here.” Little Dude sinks down on the floor, and Jackson does his dutiful best to ignore him. It’s pretty hard, though. The puppy’s got his head tucked into his paws, eyes big and sad. Is this how everyone feels when Jackson pulls this on them? Damn. He sighs. 

“Hyung?” Yugyeom says. He glances pointedly at the leash hanging by the door.

This is a battle that he’s not gonna win. “Fine,” he says, and Little Dude leaps to his feet as soon as Jackson’s hand is on the leash. He jumps up at Jackson, his whole body wiggling in excitement. “How am I supposed to get the leash on if you won’t sit still?” he grumbles, and Yugyeom laughs at him. “Ridiculous.” He has to drop to his knees and tolerate an enthusiastic and smelly tongue bath so that he can attach the stupid thing, but Little Dude doesn’t quit jumping around the whole time. “In five minutes, you’re gonna be whining at me to carry you,” Jackson says, and the dog cocks his head, “and I’m not gonna do it. That’s a promise.” 

Little Dude marches ahead, bumping his nose at the door until Yugyeom opens it for him, like he’s trying to prove Jackson wrong. “Alright,” Jackson says, a hand on Yugyeom’s side as he passes. “Let’s do this shit.”

 

 

By the time they make it to the florist, Little Dude is fast asleep in the front of Jackson’s jacket. He’s gotten bigger since the last time. too, and Jackson’s a little worried that his coat isn’t gonna make it. “I swear to God,” he mutters down at the dog’s head, “if I have to buy a purse to carry you in, I’m putting you out on the street.” Little Dude just noses further into Jackson’s chest and huffs in his sleep.

“How about this one?” Yugyeom asks. He holds up a cactus in a chintzy little pot. “Cactuses are hard to kill.” He smiles hopefully.

“It’s not for _me_ ,” Jackson says, a bit affronted. It’s not like Yugyeom’s wrong, though. Jackson can’t quite figure out the point of houseplants. Unless you can play with it, he doesn’t really have interest in feeding anything. “It’s for that guy down the hall, Jaebum.”

He knows he shouldn’t have said anything because Yugyeom peers at him curiously. “Jaebum?” he asks, and then, more gingerly: “I didn’t know you were, um. _Friends_.”

Yugyeom means well, even if he’s got about zero delicacy. “We’re not,” Jackson says. “I just accidentally crashed on his couch once. It’s -” he flaps a hand in the air, “- a long story.” He squints at the cactus. “Just help me find something that isn’t super ugly.”

“This isn’t ugly,” Yugyeom tells him, a bit crestfallen, but he puts it down anyway. 

Jackson looks up to find the shopkeeper staring at him, or rather, staring at Little Dude, and Jackson gives him a cheerful smile. Luckily, it’s hard to argue with how cute a sleeping puppy is. 

Yugyeom turns away to start poking through some of the more tropical plants, and Jackson bends to examine a set of ferns by the front of the shop. He wants to get something good, definitely, because he kind of owes Jaebum now. He’s not sure that he’d be so kind if someone broke into his apartment in the middle of the night, and he definitely wouldn’t make them coffee. And maybe he wants to get something nice because Jaebum was kind and it had had nothing to do with Jackson’s breakup. He’d done it because he wanted to, not because of some misplaced pity. Jackson hasn’t had a lot of that lately. 

“What do you think of this one?” Yugyeom asks, holding out a plant. 

This one is bigger, something tall and leafy, in a plain white pot. From what Jackson has seen of Jaebum outside his apartment, he likes simple and classic. He steps up to take a closer look and Little Dude yawns awake, peering sleepily at the plant and nibbling at a leaf within reach. “Stop it,” Jackson says. “I don’t know what weird shit will kill you.”

“Little Dude likes it,” Yugyeom says triumphantly, and he wiggles the pot a little. “Isn’t this what you wanted me here for?” Yugyeom’s got nearly half a foot on Jackson, and the kind of face that can get him mistaken for a lot older than he is, but when he smiles like that, all open and sweet, he looks exactly his age. “This is a winner, hyung, I know it.”

It’s not bad, honestly. “I brought you for your sweet, sweet company, Yugyeomie,” Jackson says, just because he knows it’ll make Yugyeom blush and scrunch up his face and laugh too hard. “Can’t I just want you around?”

“Hmm,” Yugyeom says, which is about the closest he comes to expressing doubt in Jackson. “I mean…”

Jackson gives him a good punch, almost hard enough to hurt. “Just for that, I’m not treating you to ice cream,” he sniffs. He gestures for Yugyeom to follow him to the cash register, already pulling out his wallet with the one free hand he’s got. “I was gonna, but you totally don’t deserve it.” The florist doesn’t look particularly amused by the two of them, but her face softens when Little Dude pokes his head out of Jackson’s jacket, tongue lolling out. Yeah, that’s his boy. No one can resist that handsome face.

Later, when Yugyeom is toting around Jackson’s new plant and happily working his way through an ice cream cone, he tips his head and speaks thoughtfully. “I’ve never said hello to Jaebum,” Yugyeom confesses, licking away a smudge of vanilla at the corner of his mouth. “He seems kind of scary, don’t you think?”

Yugyeom doesn’t know the half of it. “He’s pretty nice, actually,” Jackson says. Little Dude’s made himself comfortable in the crux of Jackson’s hands, head resting where the zipper parts. Jackson’s arms are starting to ache, but at least his puppy’s having a good time. “Gave me coffee in the morning.” Yugyeom’s eyebrows crawl up to his hairline and Jackson flaps a hand at him. “It’s not like that!” he insists, because it really _isn’t_. 

And it’s not like Jackson wouldn’t be attracted to Jaebum, if he was looking. But he’s not, and that’s the thing. Mark had suggested it once, that maybe Jackson should go out and hook up and that’d help him get over Kangjoon, so Jackson had tried it. He’d just ended up drunk and maudlin at the bar, crying in the bathroom while Mark coaxed his phone out of his hand so he couldn’t call Kangjoon. Their relationship, it turned out, hadn’t been the kind of thing that Jackson could fuck out of his system. That was weird enough on its own, honestly. Jackson’s had to get used to this awful, lingering ache in his chest, the jagged wound that Kangjoon had left behind. It’s not really a good time, and it’s not something that he’d ever ask someone else to help him heal. That’s not fair.

“Okay,” Yugyeom says. After Jackson nods, he catches a fingerful of melting ice cream and holds it out for Little Dude to lick off. “‘Cause hyung, buying someone a plant is a terrible way to flirt with them.”

“I’m not flirting,” Jackson says, his voice pitching shrill enough to make Yugyeom take a step back, eyes wide. “It’s not anything.” The idea of flirting with _anyone_ right now, much less his intimidatingly handsome neighbour, it honestly makes him a little sick. “The only man in my life is this guy right here.” He jostles Little Dude around in his arms, but the puppy is a lot more fixated on the cone in Yugyeom’s hands.

Yugyeom’s silent for a moment, trying to mop up the sticky mess of his ice cream. “What about me?” he asks.

“Oh, Yugyeomie,” Jackson says, and he squeezes an arm around Yugyeom’s waist. “You don’t count. You’re like my tiny baby brother.”

Yugyeom pointedly looks down at the top of Jackson’s head. “I’m not tiny,” he reminds him.

Jackson chooses to ignore this, instead taking an enormous bite from the top of Yugyeom’s ice cream cone. “Itty bitty,” he says, voice muffled with ice cream. Little Dude squirms around, twisting so that he’s got his paws planted against Jackson’s chest, lapping at the ice cream dripping down Jackson’s chin. “Gross,” Jackson grimaces, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t lift his face out of the puppy’s reach. “Dude, help?” He throws a look towards Yugyeom.

“I don’t know if my tiny arms can reach,” Yugyeom says solemnly, and he grins. Jackson groans and resigns himself to a smelly puppy tongue bath. Ugh. This is what he gets for letting Mark talk him into this. Dog slobber and hair all over his clothes. Ridiculous.

 

 

Jackson shifts the pot from one hand to the other, clearing his throat. He pushes his hair back out of his eyes without even thinking, and then blushes when he catches himself. C’mon, Wang, you’re just handing off a plant. Why’s this making you nervous? He takes a deep breath and knocks, startling Little Dude at his feet. The plan, he’d figured, was to bring the puppy, so that if the conversation gets weird, he’s got a quick exit. Gotta take the squirt for a walk, right?

It doesn’t quite go like that.

“Hey,” Jaebum says, eyes creasing into an easy smile as he pulls open the door. He’s a lot more put together today, dark hair carefully styled up, and he’s wearing an honest to god _cardigan_. “Good timing, I just got home.”

Jackson holds out the plant for Jaebum’s scrutiny. “Debt repaid,” he proclaims. Little Dude starts sniffing around Jaebum’s doorframe, straining at the leash that Jackson’s got looped around his wrist. “The florist told me that if you’re in a pinch, the leaves are good for like, insomnia.” Or something. Jackson’s brows crease for a moment. Maybe he should’ve listened a little better.

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever want to go organic,” Jaebum says, amused. He leans in to examine the plant’s tag, and then Little Dude is all over him, scrabbling at his knees with his paws and leaving drooly wet spots across his spotless slacks.

“Jesus,” Jackson says, embarrassed. He tries to balance the plant in one hand and pull on Little Dude with the other, but he isn’t gaining much ground. That dog’s got a surprising amount of muscle for being just a puppy. “Chill, man, c’mon. Be cool.” He looks up again, a flush rising on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he says, and then he wonders if he’s gonna be apologizing for something every time he speaks to Jaebum. That’s pretty embarrassing.

Jaebum catches the pot before it tumbles out of Jackson’s hand, placing it neatly on a little table by the door. “It’s fine,” he says, dropping down to crouch next to Little Dude. “He’s pretty cute.” Little Dude is ecstatic, jumping up to lick Jaebum’s nose and wrinkle the hell out of Jaebum’s expensive-looking pants. At least he’s got good taste, and Jaebum doesn’t seem to mind. He rubs under the puppy’s chin with two fingers and Little Dude’s entire body wiggles with pleasure. “What’s his name?”

“Little Dude,” Jackson says, and when Jaebum snorts and throws Jackson a look, Jackson points a finger at him. “I don’t wanna hear it, dude, it’s a great name, shut up.”

“It’s amazing,” Jaebum deadpans, straightening again. Through the open door of Jaebum’s apartment, he can see Jaebum’s cat hovering by the kitchen table, eyeing Little Dude with mistrust. He doesn’t blame her. Jaebum tips his head, taking in Jackson for a minute before his gaze settles on his face. “It somehow makes a lot of sense.”

Jackson makes a tiny startled noise. “Hey,” he says, “you don’t know me! You don’t get to make fun of me yet.”

Below them, Little Dude has noticed Nora, and he lunges between Jaebum’s legs, tongue hanging out and his breath almost strangled with how hard he’s pulling. Jackson sighs and hauls him back, doing his best to keep him out of the apartment with one leg. He finally manages to get him pinned back, listening to him whine and scratch at the tile at the doorway. “I woke up to you snoring on my couch,” Jaebum points out. “I think we kinda skipped a few steps.”

It takes Jackson a moment to figure out that this is Jaebum teasing him, even if he’s completely unsmiling. “I brought you a gift,” Jackson says. “Show a little respect.” Finally defeated, Little Dude slumps at Jackson’s feet, chewing vengefully at the toe of Jackson’s shoe. Jackson tries to shake him off before he ruins a second pair this week.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Jaebum replies, and he sounds like he’s anything but. He does this thing where both his lips and his eyebrows quirk up just a little in amusement and Jackson’s stomach gives an unexpected lurch. _Nope_ , he thinks. Better shut that down. “I’m so grateful you replaced the plant you broke when you drunkenly tried to burglarize my apartment.”

“It’s a very nice plant,” Jackson says defensively. “It’s probably better than the one you had.” 

Little Dude whines again and Jaebum laughs, bending to give him a pat. “Guess I’d better let you go,” he says, letting Little Dude lick at his palm and then wiping it on the thigh of his pants. “Wouldn’t want to hold you guys up.”

Jackson is definitely not disappointed. “Yeah,” he says, pulling at Little Dude’s leash. The puppy leaps to his feet, doing his level best to weave through Jackson’s legs and tangle him up. “See you around, I guess?”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that you will,” Jaebum says, his smile genuine and wide. Damn, that dude is way too handsome. “And thank you, seriously.”

Jackson just shrugs, and his cheeks feel kinda warm. “It was the least of what I owe.” He gives Jaebum a little wave and then he lets Little Dude drag him down the hall to the elevator. He hears the door close behind them, and as he jabs the button to call the elevator, the puppy twists around to look up at him. “Shut up,” Jackson says, pointing a finger at him. “You were useless back there, you know that?” Little Dude stares at him, tongue lolling out, completely unrepentant. Little Shit, more like. Jackson reaches into his pocket for a treat and flicks it to the dog, shaking his head. He’s just lucky Jackson loves him.

 

 

Late, late, late, late, late. Jackson dashes through the door, dodging around a family and nearly taking out a toddler as he bolts through the restaurant to the staff room in the back. “Sorry!” he calls over his shoulder, which turns out to be a mistake, because he trips over a chair leg and barely catches himself before he takes a header into the host stand. 

“Careful,” Zhou Mi cautions, amused. He holds out a hand to steady Jackson and then neatly turns it into a push towards the staff room. “Better get going. You’ll beat the boss back from lunch.”

“Thanks!” Jackson says, and then he’s dodging through the staff only doors, already peeling off his jacket.

This time it was definitely _not_ his fault. Sometime around the crack of dawn, Little Dude had leapt up onto the bed with him, snuffling at Jackson’s face, trying to wake him up for play time. While Jackson was trying to wrestle his puppy into submission, his phone had gone skittering off the bed. He’d found it later, when he rolled out of bed, ten minutes before he had to be at work. “You’re a menace,” he’d informed Little Dude, who, naturally, had been snoozing away at the foot of Jackson’s bed, his head buried under the blankets. Figured.

Jackson had left him there, throwing on exactly enough clothes to be presentable before sprinting out. He really doesn’t make a habit of being late, and he loves his job, but okay, the last couple of months have been kinda rough. His manager is pretty understanding, lucky for him. 

Hopefully he’ll be understanding this time too. Jackson changes into his work clothes at the speed of lightning and charges out the door, right into Dongwook’s chest. “...oops,” Jackson squeaks.

Dongwook sighs, a faint smile on his lips as he reaches out to button up the last button on Jackson’s shirt. “Cutting it close,” he warns, because Jackson should have been on the floor five minutes ago. 

Jackson holds up his hands in apology. Dongwook isn’t stern or mean or anything, but he’s old enough and tall enough that he can do that whole disappointed big brother schtick. It makes him an effective manager but also it kind of makes Jackson a bit terrified to let him down. “Sorry, dude, I’m still adjusting to being a puppy dad.”

It’s a great excuse. Dongwook rolls his eyes, but he steps aside to let Jackson pass. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Jackson, tapping him on the shoulder as he sends him past. “‘The dog ate my homework’ only takes you so far.”

Jackson flashes him a double thumbs up and then makes a beeline for Zhou Mi. “Alright,” he says, holding out his hands. “What have you got for me?”

“A cute couple at table seven,” Zhou Mi replies. As Jackson frowns and pats down his pockets, looking for a pen, Zhou Mi pulls one out and hands it over. “Are you good?”

“Always,” Jackson tells him, and Zhou Mi snorts, shaking his head. Jackson loves this job.

Jackson’s been at the restaurant for a couple of years now, and at this point, he’s pretty sure he’s a regular attraction for their repeat customers. It’s pretty hard to resist a face like his, after all. It’s easy and natural now, to charm the customers with an amiable wink and and a warm smile, and then it’s off to the bar with their drink orders. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Chanyeol notes, looking at Jackson over the glasses he’s filling. He tips his head, his big eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Actually, you’ve been in a good mood a lot lately.”

“I have?” Jackson blinks at him. He frowns to himself and Chanyeol bends under the bar. Chanyeol’s probably got a point. He’s been doing a lot less sitting around and moping lately, sure. Not a lot of time to do anything when you’re trying to raise a puppy. He’s too busy to do much other than to cobble together his meals from Yugyeom’s leftovers and try to stop Little Dude from rooting through his dirty laundry, looking for something that smells good. And that’s not a bad thing, either. Jackson’s always been pretty good at bouncing back, but this thing with Kangjoon has really knocked him down. It’s been kinda tiring being this sad all the time.

“Yeah!” Chanyeol says, popping up again and holding out Jackson’s drinks. He beams, his whole face creasing up into a crooked smile. “It’s a good thing, trust me. It’s nice to see you happy.”

Happy. Yeah, maybe Mark had been onto something when he’d dropped Little Dude into his lap. “Thanks, dude,” Jackson says, a little bit shy. He wouldn’t say he and Chanyeol are friends, exactly, and he never would’ve expected him to notice something like that. So it’s nice. He raises the glasses up in a quick salute before he sets them on his tray and Chanyeol wipes his hands dry and returns it, grinning. 

Jackson carries that smile all through his shift, and what do you know? He gets some killer tips by the end of the night. Maybe he’ll treat Little Dude to something squeaky he can rip to shreds. He earned it, after all.

 

 

“Who brings a dog to a party?” Mark asks, laughing and staring down at Little Dude, who’s getting himself acquainted with the underside of Mark’s fridge. Jackson had been on the fence about bringing him tonight, but Yugyeom was coming too, and Jackson would’ve felt bad about leaving the puppy at home alone. There are a lot of people here, but Little Dude stops trying to hide behind Jackson’s ankles when he spots Penny, Mark’s dog. They’ve had a playdate or two, and his whole back half wiggles in glee before he barks and scampers off towards her. 

Jackson looks pointedly at the two of them. “You did,” he says, pushing his chin out like that’s a real argument and they’re not at Mark’s _actual apartment_. “Anyway, look, it’s fine. I promise he won’t chew on any of your expensive sneakers. He’s a good dude.”

“Man, you are so whipped.” Mark laughs, handing Jackson a beer. He doesn’t flinch when Jackson folds an arm around his neck and squeezes a little. He’s trying to make it kind of menacing, but Mark’s known him way too long, and he just digs his knuckles into Jackson’s ribs and slides away when he flinches. “If I’d known that getting you a dog would make you like, this happy little housewife, I might’ve reconsidered.”

Jackson draws himself up to his full height, all outrage. “Listen,” he says. “I’m not a housewife, what the hell?”

“Hyung,” Yugyeom is giggling behind one hand, his cheeks already flushed from the beer, “hyung, you told me to get the expensive puppy chow, because the other stuff is too hard on his stomach.”

Mark practically folds in half, he’s laughing so hard. “Oh, man,” he chokes out.

Jackson sniffs. “I don’t know why I came here tonight, if I’m just going to be insulted.” He slaps his beer down on the table noisily, even though he really just wants to finish it, and he turns around. “I’m leaving. Fuck all of you.”

He grins when both Yugyeom and Mark reach out to grab his arms, pulling him back. “Drama queen,” Mark declares fondly, gesturing with his head towards the abandoned beer and hauling Jackson into a tight, one-armed hug. “You’re not gonna leave. You haven’t gotten drunk enough yet.”

“I don’t know if I like what you’re implying,” Jackson says darkly, but he lets Yugyeom press his beer back into his hands and settles in underneath Mark’s arm. 

Mark’s not the vocal type, but Jackson knows that that hand that he’s got pressed flat over Jackson’s heart means something a lot like ‘I’m glad you’re here’ and ‘I missed you, dickhead’. It’s not just Kangjoon and that group that Jackson’s been avoiding, and there’s only so much he can blame on his dog. It’s definitely nice to be here. Imagine that, when you don’t sit around and wallow in your sadness, you can have a good time with your friends. Who knew?

He’s halfway through his beer when Bambam storms up to them, a bottle of tequila in either hand. Jackson’s kind of impressed. Looks like his taste in alcohol is evolving. “Body shots!” Bambam announces, wiggling the bottles. He keeps glancing over at Jia, like she’ll start swooning over how hip and cool he is. Jackson snorts. Bambam sticks the bottle under his nose. “ _Body shots_ ,” he says again, more insistently.

Might as well. “As long as they’re off _my_ body,” Jackson says, putting aside his beer so he can pull his shirt over his head. “I mean, let’s be real, I _do_ have the best -”

Mark slaps a hand over his mouth. “I know you’re getting drunk now,” he says, smirking, “because you’re trying to get naked.” Beside Bambam, Yugyeom is giggling again, cheeks pink, avoiding looking at Jackson’s nipples. Whatever, he looks amazing. 

“I just think that everyone should be appreciating all of this,” Jackson laughs, gesturing down at his bare torso. “So alright, let’s do this.”

“Gross, oppa,” Jimin calls, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. “Put those away.” She flaps a hand, looking vaguely horrified, like she hasn’t seen Jackson strip down to roar naked down the street in the middle of the winter once. Although, actually, maybe that’s _why_ the face. Hater.

“I will put nothing away until someone is licking salt off my body,” Jackson declares, and Mark crumples up in laughter again, clinging to Jackson’s shoulder. “Shut up,” Jackson says. “Shut up!”

He needs a new best friend.

 

 

He manages to make it home with all of his clothes on _and_ he didn’t lose his puppy. That definitely counts as a win. The tough part had been finding his shirt again when he was too drunk to see straight, and talking the cab driver into taking a dog into the car. “Look,” Jackson had reasoned. “I am like, hammered. Let’s be real: I’m more likely to mess up your back seat than he is. C’mon.” He’d ended up tipping the dude an exorbitant amount of money and when they’d gotten to their building, holding out Little Dude to lick enthusiastically at the driver’s side window in thanks. Jackson doesn’t quite remember what he’d said to the guy, but he’s pretty sure he’d called him a champ. Ah, well.

He’d left Yugyeom back at Mark’s, passed out too soon as usual, with a dick scribbled on his face thanks to Bambam. Jackson had only added in the artistic details, like the splooge coming from the tip and arcing across his forehead. Yugyeom’s a sweet, sleepy drunk, and once he’s got enough in him to make standing tough, he’s impossible to get home. So Jackson had had to be the big man and figure out how to get the leash back on Little Dude and get him home. It’s a testament to his skills that he’s here now and in one piece.

The elevator takes him up to his floor, and Jackson pauses two doors too early, looking at the scrape of paint by the doorknob. Hmm. This time, he’s not confused. He knows exactly where he is. Little Dude’s kinda baffled, though. He knows it’s not their apartment and he pulls on the leash, looking back at Jackson and tipping his head like _c’mon, drunky, let’s go home already_. And they should. But…

Jackson knocks on the door, hard. He yawns, presses the back of his hand against his mouth and rocks back on his heels. Below him, Little Dude circles his ankles, sniffing at the door frame before plopping down on Jackson’s shoes. Jackson’s not the only one who’s tired.

When no one comes, Jackson knocks again. It’s not _that_ late, he reasons, and besides, it’s a weekend. There’s no way Jaebum’s in bed yet.

Just when Jackson’s about to give up and turn away, the door opens. Jaebum looks a lot like that morning, rumpled and sleepy and eyes barely open. “Yes?” he asks, voice rough and prickly.

“Look,” Jackson says, and he spreads his arms. “I didn’t break in!” At his feet, his puppy slips and nearly falls on his face. It startles him awake again, sneezing and he stands again to go investigate Jaebum’s sock feet. “Told you.”

Jaebum looks at him for one excruciating moment, long enough that Jackson wonders if he’s messed up, even worse than he had the other night. Then the irritation cracks and Jaebum snorts, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Congratulations,” he tells Jackson. He bends to stroke Little Dude’s chin, letting him lick at his fingertips. “I’m so proud of you.”

“You should be,” Jackson says, and he flexes one arm. In his drunk mind, it seems like a good idea, and when Jaebum rolls his eyes and smiles, he’s proven right. Another point for drunk Jackson. “I deserve like, a trophy or something. A gold star at the _very_ least.”

Jaebum straightens again and crosses his arms over his chest. “Maybe I’ll sort something out for you,” he says, and his smile broadens, “when it’s a decent hour and not the middle of the night.”

Right. Even drunk Jackson knows a hint when he gets one. “You’re too kind,” Jackson says, and he tugs on Little Dude’s leash before the puppy nods off in Jaebum’s place. “I’m gonna hold you to it.”

“Good night, Jackson,” Jaebum says, firmly, but he’s still smiling. Jackson decides to blame the warm clench in his gut on the tequila, instead. It’s easier that way.

Jackson has to hoist Little Dude up into his arms again because he’s weaving across the hall worse than Jackson is, and he grunts with the effort. “Fat ass,” Jackson tells him, and Little Dude licks his wrist. “I’ve got enough trouble unlocking the door without you adding to it.” He doesn’t get an answer, just another lick as the puppy starts slobbering on his cuff. Typical.

He doesn’t bother to change into pajamas, just strips off his clothes and flops into bed. Little Dude had dozed off as soon as Jackson had set him down in the living room, but as Jackson reaches for the light, he hears the sound of nails against the floor. “Oh, so, now you can walk,” he grumbles, but he shifts down instead, hauling the puppy up and into bed. He probably shouldn’t encourage this, but he knows that if he doesn’t help, Little Dude is just gonna paw at his blankets and whine all night until Jackson lets him up. 

The puppy scrambles up next to Jackson, making himself comfortable in the hollow behind Jackson’s knees. “You good?” Jackson asks, and when he stretches an arm down to ruffle Little Dude’s fur, he leans into the touch. “Alright, buddy. No kicking me off the bed tonight.” Jackson flicks off the light and settles down, listening to the soft snuffle of Little Dude’s breathing. He’s even in his own bed. Not a bad end to the night.

 

 

Little Dude is gone when Jackson wakes up the next day, which is fine, because Jackson’s got a steady hammering behind his eyes and the taste of roadkill in his mouth and he’s not sure puppy breath is really gonna help the situation. He takes his time rolling out of bed. groaning like an old man with aching joints and fumbling his way to the bathroom for a piss and some painkillers.

He gulps down the pills with a palmful of water and hikes up his boxer briefs as he wanders out into the living room. It’s later than he’d thought, and Yugyeom and Bambam are sitting on the couch, watching some terrible action movie with the sound down low. Jackson grins when he sees the faint traces of black marker across Yugyeom’s forehead. “Hey,” he says, yawning. “Good morning.”

“Afternoon,” Bambam corrects. He tosses a fry into his mouth and Jackson suddenly, desperately needs fried food. “Can you please put on clothes? I’m tired of seeing you naked.”

 

Just for that, Jackson deliberately saunters between them and the television and bends neatly in half, taking his time to scratch an itch on his toes. He takes great delight in the way that they both shriek and recoil. That is the power of one fine ass. He wiggles his butt one last time and straightens, turning to drop down between them on the couch. “Gimme some of those fries.”

“Hyung, what’s this?” Yugyeom holds a finger in front of Jackson’s nose, a post-it stuck to the tip of it. “It was on the door when we got in this morning.”

Jackson leans in close. _hope you’re not too hungover_ , it says, and there’s a shiny gold star sticker. Jackson’s got no idea where he got that sticker from on such short notice, but there’s no doubt in his mind that this is from Jaebum. He can’t help the way that his mouth starts to curl up into a smile, small and genuine. “Nothing,” he says.

“Oh,” Yugyeom says with interest, and he bends in to peer at Jackson. “That doesn’t look like nothing.” Jackson doesn’t like the mischievous quirk of Yugyeom’s eyebrows. “Is this from Jaebum? Down the hall?”

“Which one is that?” Bambam asks around a mouthful of fries. He frowns. “The super beefy one with the weird sticky-out ears?”

Yugyeom shakes his head. “No, this is the scary one.”

Jackson shifts back against the back of the couch and looks at the both of them, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why do I feel like this conversation has happened before?” he asks, and Bambam immediately looks away, eyes crawling up to the ceiling while he whistles innocently. Just for that, Jackson snatches the carton of fries from between his fingers. “It’s a post-it note,” he says, stuffing a fry into his mouth. “That’s all.”

Bambam looks like he’s going to say something, but Jackson catches Yugyeom shaking his head once, hurriedly. “Okay,” Yugyeom says, and he slaps the post-it to the centre of Jackson’s forehead. “If you say so.”

“I do,” Jackson says. Bambam makes a quick play for the fries but Jackson is too fast, pulling them out of his reach again, He tips his head back and empties the fries into his mouth, letting half of them tumble against his chin and down his front. Take that. “Where’s my dude?”

At the mention of the puppy’s name, Jackson hears him skitter into the room, and he bends down, spreading out his arms. “Hey, buddy,” he calls. It takes Little Dude a few tries to scramble up onto the couch with them, and then he’s happily camped out on Jackson’s lap, eating the leftover fries and licking the salt off Jackson’s finger. “And here I thought you loved me for me,” Jackson says dryly.

Bambam stands in a huff, grumbling about his lost fries, and when Yugyeom follows, the movement shakes the post-it free and onto Jackson’s lap. Against his best instincts, Jackson folds it up and holds it tight in one hand, listening to the kids squabble over leftovers in the kitchen.

“Alright,” Jackson says, and Little Dude looks up from where he’s scarfing up the last lost fry. “Lemme put on some clothes and then I’ll take you out, alright?” The puppy leaps up, his paw and his full weight settling in a very unfortunate place, and Jackson yelps and squirms. “ _Jesus_. I know you like being an only child but c’mon.”

Unrepentant as always, Little Dude licks his nose and wags his tail.

 

 

Maybe it’s their schedules, maybe it’s just luck, but Jackson doesn’t run into Jaebum for nearly a week after that. He’s still got the post-it note, and the one before it too, lying around on top of his dresser. He hasn’t really figured out what he wants to do with them just yet. 

He’s taking Little Dude out for a walk one afternoon when Jaebum’s door opens and Jackson has to do a quick sidestep to dodge out of his way. “Whoa,” he says, and Little Dude makes an abrupt little wuff, eyeing Jaebum. “Going somewhere?”

“No, actually,” Jaebum admits, and it wasn’t the answer Jackson was expecting, considering the speed at which he bolted out that door. Before Jackson can ask about it, Jaebum powers on. “Hey, are you headed out on a walk?”

Little Dude gets distracted from Jaebum’s shoes by the word, and then he’s all energy again, dancing around their feet, tongue hanging out. Jackson laughs. “Yeah, that’s the plan.” He’s not sure why he makes the offer, but it might have something to do with the flush across Jaebum’s pale cheeks. “You wanna come with? I could use some company while this guy pees on every available surface.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jaebum says, and he closes the door behind him and locks it. “If you don’t mind.”

“You’re definitely infringing on my solo time,” Jackson says, and Jaebum’s expression shifts from hesitant to a little bit resigned. “I only said it to be polite.” Jackson grins at him. “Obviously.”

“Do you have friends?” Jaebum asks conversationally as they head out of the building. Startled, Jackson barks out a laugh, and Little Dude peers up at him. “Because I honestly don’t know how you could.” There’s a playful tip to Jaebum’s mouth and the arch of his eyebrow.

Jackson scoffs. “Dude, you’re really not starting this off on a good foot.” He shakes his head. “I go out of my way to do a nice thing for you, and this is what I get.” They pause while Little Dude investigates a trash can. “Asking if I have friends, and _you’re_ the one who wears sweater vests.”

“I’m a teacher,” Jaebum says, affronted. A teacher. That does explain a lot. Like all the pairs of khaki pants he wears. No normal person wears that much khaki unless they have to. “I have to dress well.”

“‘Well’,” Jackson echoes, wiggling his fingers in air quotes. “Sweater vests, dude. There are no excuses for that shit.” He’s smiling at Jaebum, this kind of helpless, pleased smile that he’s got no way of stopping. Jaebum’s spiky in a way that makes Jackson want to needle him, pull that grin out of him in return, and he likes this. There are plenty of reasons that Jaebum shouldn’t like him, starting with the accidental break-in and ending somewhere around a puppy leaving drool on his shoes, and yet here he is, taking a walk with him.

And that’s kinda cool, too. It’s been a while since Jackson’s been around someone who wasn’t trying to coddle him, coax him out of his apartment to check for damage and make sure he’s getting enough sunlight. Jaebum doesn’t pull his punches. Jackson digs that. 

Jaebum makes a tiny noise with his tongue. “Well, see, some of us have adult jobs.” He glances at Jackson, head tipped, gauging how he’s taking it. “We can’t all live in one pair of over-sized sweatpants.”

They turn into a park and Little Dude gets excited, pulling hard at the leash in his quest to sniff at and pee on literally every plant there is. “They’re not over-sized,” Jackson protests. “They’re made like that. It’s _fashion_.” He pushes Jaebum with his free hand. “I’m fashionable.”

“Is that what it’s called?” Jaebum asks, and when Jackson scowls at him, he grins so broadly Jackson feels a little stunned. This guy is way too handsome for his own good. “Huh. The more you know.”

“Don’t hate,” Jackson says, nudging Jaebum with an elbow. “I’m living my glamourous life with fashionable sweatpants and you’re stuck grading papers. It’s okay to be bitter.”

Jaebum hums. “And what exactly do you do that’s so glamourous?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “Let me guess: barista. Or, hmm. One of those guys that test video games for a living. Or a professional stay-at-home slob.” 

It’s like he’s picking up steam now, relaxing into this with Jackson, and Jackson kinda loves it. He grins at Jaebum. “I’m deeply wounded, I hope you know that,” Jackson tells him, and Jaebum just shrugs. “I am, in fact, a waiter.”

Jaebum takes that in for a moment, before he nods. “You’re right,” he says gravely. “That’s very glamourous.”

“Thought so,” Jackson agrees. He feels a tug at the leash as Little Dude eyes a squirrel a little uncertainly, like he isn’t sure who’d come out on top in a match. “No go, pal,” Jackson says. “He’s way too fast for you. Gotta start small. Bugs. Small leaves.” Little Dude huffs at him and paws at the grass.

“You haven’t had him long, have you?” Jaebum asks. He bends down to scratch the puppy’s chin and Little Dude leans into it, his tongue lolling out in happiness. “I feel like I would have noticed if you had.”

“Yeah, my best friend kinda dumped him on me, but I gotta admit, he’s growing on me.” Jackson looks down at Little Dude. “Like a particularly cute fungus. Who eats a lot.”

Jaebum turns to him and grins. “That kind of reminds me of someone,” he says voice surprisingly, and he tips his head. “I can’t imagine who.”

There’s no good reason that that should send a jolt of something warm and pleased down Jackson’s spine, and he tucks his chin into his chest and smiles at his shoes. His stomach does a dangerous swoop and he wills it to calm.

 

 

It’s his day off, and it’s getting warm, so Jackson’s sprawled out on the couch, Little Dude a weight just a hair too heavy over his gut. He’s getting big now, too big to fit in Jackson’s jacket anymore, and his ears have learned to stand up instead of flopping over his eyes. Soon he’s going to be one of those difficult teenagers. Jackson strokes idly over Little Dude’s head, scratching behind his ears. “Please don’t become even more of a pain in the ass,” he mutters, and Little Dude licks obligingly at his wrist.

He’s gotta admit, he’s pretty bored right now. Joon had texted him, one telling him to come out and get something to eat with a bunch of people sandwiched in between a trio of emoji stories that Jackson’s stopped trying to decipher. He’d been all for it until he’d asked if Kangjoon would be there, and the answer had taken way too long to come. Not worth the risk, that’s for sure.

Lately, he doesn’t think it’s so bad, anymore. He doesn’t wake up feeling that gaping hole in his chest, and he’s stopped waiting for good night texts that won’t ever come. That’s something like progress, he thinks. Mark was on to something when he’d dumped Little Dude in Jackson’s lap. He’s sort of like a boyfriend. Takes up all his time, demands snuggles, makes his clothes smell funny. Practically the same thing.

And sure, maybe it’s been long enough now. Maybe if he showed up to brunch and saw Kangjoon hanging out with some beautiful chick, he’d be fine. He wouldn’t feel like he was gonna shatter into a bajillion pieces. But maybe he would. And call him a coward, but Jackson’s still afraid of that. 

Jackson wasn’t a like, virgin when he met Kangjoon, but it was the first time he’d ever been with someone and it’d felt just right. It got him thinking about the future in ways that were soft and sappy and pretty gross, and he’d thought they were on the same page. And then one day, Kangjoon had sat down and fairly quickly set him straight, and that was that.

“I still miss him sometimes,” Jackson admits, barely loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the drama playing on the television. Little Dude lifts his head quizzically, blinks at him, and then noses at his hand for more pets. Jackson complies, letting his eyes slide shut and exhaling loudly. “I still miss him.” 

It’s the first time he’s said that out loud, and hearing the words makes him feel unsettled. Isn’t he supposed to be done with this already? It feels like admitting a weakness. He’s got a certain reputation to keep up, and letting some guy crush his heart kinda ruins it. “Gotta be big and tough,” Jackson sighs, and his puppy swats at him with a paw. “Yeah, exactly.”

But he’s bouncing back. Between this guy and his friends and picking up some classes at the gym, he’s keeping himself busy. “I’m doing okay, right?” he asks Little Dude. The puppy sneezes in his face. “Thanks,” Jackson mutters, but he smooths a hand over the top of Little Dude’s head and scratches his chin. “Yeah, I’m doing pretty good.”

 

 

Jackson exhales hard, pushing his hair back out of his eyes as he steps up to Zhou Mi’s stand. “Busy tonight,” he says, looking out at the restaurant. Monday isn’t usually a big night for them, but it’s the middle of their rush, and the place is packed. He’s been run off his feet, and he loves it. This is the kind of thing he thrives on. “Alright, what do you got for me?”

“Two on four,” Zhou Mi says, making a note on his chart. “I think they’ve been sitting a while, so go turn on your charm.” He taps Jackson under the chin and smiles at him. “I know you can do it.”

Jackson leans into Zhou Mi’s hand and beams at him. “I’m all over it,” he says, before straightening and giving a quick, sloppy salute. He’s by no means the best waiter here, but he likes to think he’s pretty damn good. “Thanks, man.”

It’s nice to have a lazy day at work, but this is the kind of shift Jackson lives for. Not a boring moment. He pulls out his notepad as he approaches the table, feeling around for a pen. Damnit, he’s lost another one. As he passes by Sunkyu, he snags her pen out of her pocket, quickly dodging her swipe back at him. She always carries a spare. 

He stops at the table and has to grit his teeth as Sunkyu breezes by behind him, jabbing her fingertips into his kidney with dangerous precision. His first words come out as a laugh, and it takes him a second to gather himself. “Hi, I’m Jackson, I’ll be - oh! Hey!”

Jaebum looks up at him over his menu. “Hi,” he says, a smile dawning across his face. Jackson definitely isn’t weak to it. “I didn’t know you work here.” Jaebum looks nice tonight, dressed up like his teacher gear in a floral button-up underneath a black cardigan. Fancy. Jackson’s eyes flick to his date for the night, a very good looking guy with big eyes and full lips, and he valiantly pretends that that _wasn’t_ a surge of jealousy. 

“Yeah, you caught me,” Jackson says, shrugging. It’s not like he’s ashamed of his job or anything, but he suddenly feels a little self-conscious, standing here in front of the two of them in his standard-issue dress shirt. He clears his throat. “So,” he says. “Date night?”

Jaebum’s friend almost cackles with laughter before he claps a hand over his mouth. “Um, no,” he says. 

Jackson’s pretty familiar by now with the expression that flickers across Jaebum’s face, a kind of fond resignation. “Jackson,” he says, “meet my best friend, Jinyoung. Jinyoung, this is my neighbour, Jackson.”

“Ah,” Jinyoung says, his eyebrows raising. “Is this the drunk one?”

Jackson can feel the blush crawling up his throat to his cheeks. “Not at the moment,” he says. “Management kinda frowns on that.”

“Hmm.” Jinyoung narrows his eyes at him, like he’s examining him. Across the table, Jaebum rubs a hand across his eyes and sighs.

This is a little much. “Can I get you some drinks to start?” Jackson asks, fixing his gaze down on his notepad so he doesn’t have to face either Jaebum or his friend. “We’ve got a great house red if you’re into that.”

“Sure,” Jaebum says easily. “That sounds good.”

Jackson leaves them to go pick up their drinks at the busy bar. “Okay, don’t look now,” Chanyeol says in a terrible stage whisper, leaning in close to Jackson, “but you’re being watched.”

“Shit, is Dongwook done with dinner?” Jackson hisses, hurriedly tucking in his shirt.

Chanyeol starts to laugh. “No!” he says. He props his chin up on one hand. “I meant your table. He’s watching you~”

What? Jackson turns cautiously and he’s just in time to see Jaebum look away. It sets up this slow burn in Jackson’s gut, and he doesn’t know if he should be as jittery and excited as he is. “Oh, yeah, him,” Jackson says. “He’s a friend of mine.” That’s not quite a lie, but it’s not quite the truth, either. Wishful thinking, maybe. “My neighbour,” he corrects.

Chanyeol’s got all the subtlety of a bag of hammers. He grins at Jackson, eyebrows wiggling wildly. “Oooookay,” he says, and he winks broadly, completely unphased when Jackson scowls and slugs him in the arm. “He seems nice.”

That’s a little hard to believe when Chanyeol’s never spoken to him, but Jackson appreciates what he’s trying to do. “He is,” Jackson says, and then he flaps his hands. “C’mon, dude, wine me.”

“Yessir,” Chanyeol says, but he still doesn’t manage to pour the drinks without a lot of pointed looks towards table four and this bright, knowing smile. 

Jackson isn’t really sure he likes the way this all makes him feel. He likes being around Jaebum, but this kind of pressure, it’s kind of not cool. Can’t he just get to know the guy? They already had a rocky start. Chanyeol hands over the drinks and Jackson cuts him off before he can make another little jab. “Stop,” he says. “Stick to your drinks and your hopeless crush on Dongwook, alright?”

It’s a low blow, and Chanyeol turns pink to his ears. “Hey,” he says defensively. “It’s not _that_ hopeless.”

Jackson hoists his tray and puts one hand solemnly over his heart. “I love that about you,” he says. “Never stop dreaming.” 

He heads away and grins when Chanyeol squawks in indignation.

Having Jaebum around through his shift makes Jackson inexplicably tense. He finds his eyes crawling over to their table, keeping tabs on them. He hasn’t really figured out how he feels about having Jaebum here, in his space. So far, he’s only managed to invade Jaebum’s, instead. Maybe it’s about time things should be equal, anyway. 

He’s handing over their bills when Jaebum catches his wrist. “Hey, uh, when do you get off?” he asks, and Jinyoung makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh covered with a cough. “Did you want to grab coffee or something?”

“Um.” Jackson really badly wants to say yes, but they’re just so busy tonight that he knows that Dongwook won’t let him go early. “I think I’m on until close.”

A big hand settles on his shoulder. “Actually,” Zhou Mi says, “Sunkyu is. You’re off right about now.” Jackson twists to look back at Sunkyu, and she flashes him an okay with her fingers. “Isn’t that lucky? Better get out of here.” He beams at Jackson.

Jackson’s mouth works for a moment. “Yeah?” he says, clicking the end of his pen. “Are you sure?” Jaebum is watching the two of them, eyes curious and a little bit hopeful. “I mean, I don’t wanna leave you hanging.”

Zhou Mi squeezes his shoulder before he slips back to his stand. “Ryohei just came in. Go ahead.”

Well, now he’s got no excuses, now. Jackson tucks his pen and notepad away and he offers Jaebum a smile. “Guess I’m good to go,” he says. “Uh, lemme just grab my stuff.”

“That’s my cue,” Jinyoung says, and he stands, pulling on his jacket. “Papers to grade. I’ll see you around, Jaebum.” He pulls Jaebum up and into a goodbye hug, and then fixes Jackson with another long, lingering look. “It was nice to meet you,” he says, but his tone doesn’t exactly match his words. Jackson can’t tell if he should be worried about that.

“You too?” Jackson says, and Jaebum snorts, covering his eyes with his hand. 

It only takes Jackson a second to grab his bag from the back, and he bursts out of the restaurant to find Jaebum waiting out front. “Ready?” Jaebum asks.

Jackson fidgets, smoothing a hand down his shirt front. “Yeah,” he says, and he nudges Jaebum with an elbow. “Let’s do this.” Jaebum nudges him back, and in the yellow light of the streetlamp, Jackson can see him grin.

 

 

“How much do I owe you?” Jackson asks, tipping his head forward to take a long sip from his iced coffee. Jaebum just blinks at him, and Jackson raises the plastic cup, shaking it so the ice cubes rattle against the sides. “For this.” It’s beautiful out, sunny and bright, and at his feet, Little Dude is licking whipped cream out of a paper cup. For a dog who manages to trample his big paws all over Jackson in the mornings, he’s surprisingly delicate as he cleans the cup. There’s something unfair about that.

Jaebum shrugs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. He does that a lot, Jackson notices. Picks up the tab for little things, asks Jackson if he’s eating and sleeping well. Maybe it’s a teacher thing. “You can get the next one.”

He says it all casual, like this is a thing they do now, taking the dog out and getting coffee. It sets off a slow burn in Jackson’s gut, the kind of thing he recognizes but he definitely is _not_ acknowledging. “No way,” Jackson decides, “this was definitely just a gift from you.” He bends to scoop the empty cup off the ground. Little Dude has other ideas. He lets out a tiny little growl and refuses to part with his new toy, yanking it out of Jackson’s hand and stomping ahead. Jackson may or may not be spoiling this guy.

“A gift, huh?” Jaebum asks dryly. “Thanks for the clarification.” His arm brushes up against Jackson’s, and they follow behind Little Dude as he trots down the sidewalk. “It’s really making me feel like being generous in the future.”

“I thought so,” Jackson says, and he takes a noisy sip on his coffee. This has somehow become kind of a standing thing for them on the weekends, wandering around their neighbourhood with a coffee while Little Dude does his best to pee on everything he can find. “So this teacher thing is probably a pretty good gig. All this time off in the summer.”

Jaebum tips up a shoulder. “I love it,” he admits, and when Jackson glances at him, Jaebum’s eyes are fixed downward as he smiles. “It takes up a lot of my time during the school year but I’m going to be honest, I kind of buy into the whole ‘making a difference’ thing.”

“Of course you do,” Jackson laughs, and he slings his arm around Jaebum’s neck to tug him in. He gets a quiet kind of thrill when Jaebum shifts to fit himself better under Jackson’s arm. “You took pity on a poor drunk fool and let him sleep in. You’re practically like, a geekier Superman.” He taps his cup against Jaebum’s chest. “Like, if he was Clark Kent 24/7.” He snuffles noisily and then mimes pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Careful,” Jaebum says. “That was practically a compliment.” He’s doing that thing again, where his cheeks turn pink like Jackson’s really flustering him. Jackson really shouldn’t feel as pleased as he does. 

Especially since...well, it’s weird. There hasn’t really been anyone since his last relationship, and it’s so strange to get those same butterflies going off over someone else. He knows that it’s irrational, but he still feels a little like he’s betraying Kangjoon, somehow. Which is stupid. Kangjoon’s already moved on. He’s got his brand new girlfriend anyway. Jackson’s not doing anything wrong, and he knows it.

It’s just...weird.

“Whatever, dude,” Jackson says. He drags Jaebum in with his arm so he can take another sip of his drink. It’s a dick move, and it pulls Jaebum in so close that he has to steady himself with a hand against the small of Jackson’s back, his breath warm against Jackson’s cheek. Jackson’s trying to play nonchalant, but it’s enough to make him feel jittery and tense. Damn, he’s good at sabotaging himself. “I can be nice, you know.”

When he lets Jaebum go, his hand lingers on Jackson’s spine, and Jackson expects him to shift away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at Jackson sidelong, like he’s waiting for a cue. Jackson busies himself with straightening Little Dude’s leash instead of trying to figure out the right way to respond to it, but his mouth is turning up despite himself. He doesn’t think he should, but he kinda likes this. “Is this a moment?” he jokes, as they pause at a corner to wait for the light. “Are we having a moment?” Little Dude paces impatiently, chewing at the sodden mess that was left of his paper cup. 

“It’s kind of a moment,” Jaebum says after a moment, shrugging his shoulder. He taps his thumb against the small of Jackson’s back, his smile enigmatic. “Do you want it to be a moment?”

It’s scary, but he does. The light changes in front of them and Little Dude pulls at the leash, trying to drag them forward. “Hold on,” Jackson says. He finishes his iced coffee quickly, tossing it into a garbage can and he wipes his palm on his pants. “I can’t hold your hand if I’ve still got the drink.”

Jaebum’s fingers slide easily between Jackson’s. “My bad,” Jaebum says. “I guess next time, I’ll just get one for me and the little guy.” His grin is broad but still a bit guarded. 

“Dude,” Jackson says, and when his puppy chews at the leash, they finally head after him across the street. “That’s cold.” He tries to turn a pout on Jaebum, soften him up, but Jaebum’s smile just widens. Somehow, that just makes Jackson’s heart feel even warmer.

 

 

Mark’s place is packed. “Holy shit,” Jackson says. “What’d you do, invite your entire Facebook friend list?” When Mark had invited him over, Jackson had thought, ‘hey, nice low key way to introduce Jaebum to his friends’. So naturally, there’s barely room to breathe in the apartment. Jaebum looks a little bit overwhelmed, but he’s still got Jackson’s hand tucked casually into his.

“No,” Mark says. “But I told Youngji about it.” He eyes Jaebum with interest, his gaze lingering on their hands before traveling back up to raise his eyebrows at Jackson. Jackson immediately looks away, pretending he didn’t see. He’s probably gonna get an earful about that later.

“That explains it,” Jackson says. It feels a little bit like everyone he knows is here, this strange clash of two separate groups of people that never really overlap. There’s something really weird about watching Joon whoop and cheer on Youngjae, flushed and drunk already, dancing like an idiot. It’s a bit unreal. When he turns back, Jaebum is looking at him pointedly, and Jackson pulls an apologetic face. “Oh, uh, Mark, this is Jaebum.” He feels like he should follow that up with something, but he’s not even sure how to describe their relationship. It’s way easier to say nothing. “Jaebum, this is my best friend, my brother, the man, Mark.”

Mark scoffs and rolls his eyes, shoving Jackson pretty hard with an elbow. “Nice to meet you, man,” he says to Jaebum, and Jaebum echoes it, holding out a hand. Jackson isn’t sure what he was expecting, like, a stand-off or something, but this is kind of a non-event.

He looks back at Mark. “Alright, so, hey, congratulations, dude!” He pulls Mark into a hug that’s more of a headlock, digging his knuckles into his head. “You’re finally done with school!”

He feels more than sees Mark grin against his neck, and the shout he lets out is muffled against Jackson’s skin. When Jackson lets go, Mark’s hair is mussed and staticky, but his grin is wide and genuine. “It feels great,” he admits. “Finally!”

“Congratulations,” Jaebum echoes, and Mark grins at him. That’s a good start. 

“Alright,” Jackson says, and he gives Mark one last noogie. “Lemme go find Youngji and tell her off for ruining the night.” Mark snorts and shoves them off with a little wave, turning to be engulfed in a hug by Yugyeom.

Jackson grabs for Jaebum’s hand again. “Don’t want you to get lost,” he says, and Jaebum raises his eyebrows at him.

“Of course,” he says, squeezing Jackson’s fingers tight for a moment before following him through the crush of people.

He’d been nervous, at first, about bringing Jaebum here. It’s not like they’re serious or anything, it’s not like he even knows _what_ they are, but it’s still pretty important to him. He’d tensed up for a moment, too, when he’d realized who was here, who Youngji had invited. They’d mostly known him as part of Jackson and Kangjoon, and he still wasn’t sure if this thing with Jaebum would be okay. 

And then Gukjoo had slapped him on the back, so hard he practically went stumbling, only steadied by Jaebum’s hand. “Glad to see you out of your cave again,” she tells him, scooping him up in a hug, and all of Jackson’s nerves just melt away. It’s not like Jackson doesn’t know how to make new friends, but he’s pretty attached to the ones he’s already got, and there are a lot of real warm and fuzzy feelings to know they’re pretty attached to him too. “Was it this guy who dragged you out?” She flashes a thumbs up at the both of them. “Good. I want to see this face more often.” She lets Jinah tug her away to do some shots, but not before she bops Jackson on the nose. Jackson feels inexplicably flattered.

It’s so noisy in here, but Jackson’s a man on a mission. Lucky for him, his mission finds him first. “Jackson Wang,” Youngji says dramatically. She pulls herself up to her diminutive height to do her best to look Jaebum in the eye. It’s actually sort of intimidating, but that might just be because he knows her so well. Jaebum mostly looks amused. “Is this him?” She squints up at Jaebum. “You must be Jaebum. Jackson’s told me absolutely nothing about you, so you must be important. I’m -”

“Casually ruining my life,” Jackson interrupts, pushing her. “What are you doing? Stop talking.”

Youngji beams at him, grabbing for his arm. “I’m Youngji,” she says to Jaebum, digging her nails in and serenely ignoring Jackson’s attempts to shake her free. She’s very determined. She’s a pain. “I’m glad I can put a face to the name, now.”

“Are all of Jackson’s friends this pretty?” Jaebum asks, and Youngji cackles even as Jackson groans. 

“I like him,” Youngji declares. “He knows how to make a first impression.”

 

“I can’t take either of you anywhere,” Jackson says mournfully, and then Jaebum is laughing too, stroking his fingers down the back of Jackson’s arm and then bending in to touch his lips to his shoulder. He assumes that it’s supposed to soothe but it’s a surprisingly intimate gesture, and it makes Jackson turn red, ducking his head. “So embarrassing, I swear to God.”

Youngji coos and cups his face in her hands. “You’re fine,” she tells him. “Go get yourself a beer and stop whining.” She turns to Jaebum. “Watch him,” she says sternly. “He always tries to take his shirt off.”

It startles a laugh out of Jaebum. “Duly noted,” he replies, looking at Jackson sidelong, eyes speculative. 

Youngji throws back her head and laughs before she races across the room to needle Minwoo for drinking all of her vodka. 

“You should be so lucky to see that,” Jackson says to Jaebum. He digs an elbow into Jaebum’s gut and then immediately reels him back in with a grip on his wrist. He’s got no idea if it’s the atmosphere of the party or what, but Jackson feels more comfortable with this, with reaching for Jaebum, touching him, knowing he’ll be there. It’s got a kind of thrill to it, unfamiliar and familiar and exciting all at once.

It’s a good night. He’s got his right hand tangled in Jaebum’s, a beer in his left hand, and he gets to have a nice rousing argument with Joon over the importance of a good pair of shoes. It’s the first time in so long that he’s felt really good, really relaxed. Gukjoo’s got a good point, he’s really gotta get out with these guys more often. It’s not so scary, with Jaebum here.

At least it is until he feels a tap on his shoulder. “Wow, it’s been a long time,” Kangjoon says, and it’s like Jackson’s just been punched in the gut. He goes cold, frozen, and Jaebum turns to him, eyes confused. Jackson’s palms are getting clammy and he tugs his hand out of Jaebum’s without thinking, wiping it off on his pants. He’s not sure he remembers how to breathe. Out of everything he prepared for tonight, this was never on the menu. “You look good,” Kangjoon says, which is kind of terrible because he looks incredible and his girlfriend is so pretty, and it’s all just...too much. 

“Thanks,” Jackson says hoarsely. He’s only vaguely aware of Jaebum next to him, looking back and forth between him and Kangjoon, eyebrows furrowed. He should probably say something here, like how he’s glad to see Kangjoon, but he’s not, really. He’s numb, mostly. He feels like he’s supposed to be feeling something here, like hurt or upset or anger, but all he really has is this strange empty feeling and an unshakeable urge to _get the fuck out of here_. He hasn’t seen Kangjoon once since the breakup, and this feels so, so strange.

“And hey, is this your boyfriend?” Kangjoon asks. Jackson hates how easy it is for him to hold out a hand for Jaebum, like he’s not waving off three years of history with one quick, easy smile. Jackson used to love that about him, how nothing ever ruffled Kangjoon, how it was almost impossible to get him angry. Now he’s mostly a little stunned at how easy he was to just shrug off like that. To be replaced. 

“He’s not -” Jackson begins, but he doesn’t even know how to finish that sentence so he just stops, shrugging helplessly.

Kangjoon doesn’t seem to notice. “I’m really happy for you,” he continues, earnest as ever. “I know that you took the breakup really hard so I’m glad that you found someone too!”

Jackson looks at Jaebum, and that sick feeling in his gut only gets worse when he sees Jaebum’s eyes, hard and shuttered off. He’s got his lips pressed tightly together, his hands now tucked neatly in his pockets. They’d been standing together before, shoulder to hip, and now Jaebum is pulling away. Confused, Jackson reaches out to curl his fingers around Jaebum’s wrist but Jaebum shies away instead.

Kangjoon’s pushing his girlfriend forward, trying to introduce her, but Jackson just can’t handle this. “Look, can we not do this right now?” he says, holding his hands up and backing away. “It’s just…”

Of course Kangjoon just blinks at him, confused, like Jackson’s the one making this situation awkward. Jackson’s just drunk enough that his tongue doesn’t want to work right, and he can’t figure out how to tell Kangjoon that the wounds may not be fresh anymore, but it’s still just too weird, too uncomfortable.

Thank God for Joon. He wedges himself between them and claps his hands down on Kangjoon’s shoulders. “My man,” he says, “you owe me a game of beer pong.” He slings one arm around Kangjoon’s waist and one around his girlfriend’s and steers them away, and Jackson finally relaxes, exhaling with a groan.

“Shit,” he mutters, dragging his hands over his eyes. “Well, that sucked.” It’s like he’s just come off a tour of duty, or at least a really long, really tough workout. He feels tense and uncomfortable and completely unsettled, and one look at Jaebum is enough to confirm that he’s not the only one. Maybe it’d be different if they’d had the ex talk, or like, any talk about their relationship at all, but as it is, it’s like they just pushed off to sea in a shitty little raft and just weathered a storm, and now they’ve gotta figure out if they’re gonna stay in one piece. It’s not fun.

Next to him, Jaebum is silent for a really long time, long enough that Jackson drops his hands and blinks at him. “I think I’ll go home,” he says stiffly, and Jackson’s stomach sinks all over again. He’d known it’d be bad, but this is worse than he’d hoped.

“Hey,” he says, licking his lips. “Wait, look, can we like, talk for a minute?”

“I guess,” Jaebum says, but he’s looking everywhere but at Jackson. He’s got that hard, closed-off look in his eyes, and Jackson thinks that maybe now he understands why Yugyeom could find him scary. This is a side of Jaebum he didn’t really expect to see turned on him.

Jackson leads them out on the balcony, shooing away Bambam, who’s taking artful selcas with an unlit cigarette. It’s quieter out here, even with the hum of the city, and for the first time in a long time, Jackson feels like he can actually think. Jaebum leans his elbows on the railing, staring out at the skyline, and Jackson shifts from foot to foot, eyes fixed on the shape of Jaebum’s shoulders.

“Sorry about that,” Jackson says, stepping up next to him. 

“It’s fine,” Jaebum says. His voice is weirdly distant. “I get it. I didn’t know that this is what this was, but I get it now.”

That doesn’t even sound like words to him. “What?” Jackson asks. He nudges Jaebum with his knuckles. “What does that even mean? What is _this_?”

“A rebound,” Jaebum says, so bitter Jackson can practically taste it. He stares at Jaebum. “I’m your rebound. It’s pretty obvious now.” When he turns to look at Jackson, he looks hurt. “And it kind of sucks.”

It stings. “You’re not a rebound,” Jackson says, trying not to sound as indignant as he feels. “Dude, look, yeah, he’s my ex, but that’s ancient history.” It’s weird, like saying it makes it true. It _is_ old history. As much as seeing Kangjoon again had knocked him over, it was more this strange sense of almost deja vu than anything. It wasn’t wanting, not anymore. “I just haven’t seen him since, well.”

“And that’s why you just dropped my hand like it was on fire?” Jaebum straightens. “Since you made it pretty clear that I’m not your boyfriend, I think I’d better just leave.”

“So that’s it?” Jackson asks. He pushes at Jaebum until he turns to face him, eyes impassive. “You figure you know the whole story, so that’s it?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I didn’t know that buying me coffee qualifies as a relationship, man, maybe next time you can let me in on the goddamn secret.”

Jaebum barks out a laugh, harsh and sharp. “You do _not_ get to be angry right now,” he says, pointing a finger at Jackson. “You’re the one making a fool of me.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “I really liked you,” he says, quieter. “I thought you liked me too.”

“I do!” Jackson bursts out, throwing his hands in the air. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“Because I saw how you looked at him,” Jaebum snaps. There’s a thread of something really raw about his voice, and it makes Jackson flinch. Jaebum’s eyes slide off of Jackson’s face, back to the noise and bustle of the party. “I’m going home. I have to feed Nora, or something.”

“Jaebum.” Jackson grabs Jaebum’s arm, but he pulls away. “Man, please.”

Silently, Jaebum slides open the door and pushes his way through the party to the door, and all Jackson can do is slide down to the floor. 

He stares down at his hands for a very long time, listening to the way that his heart roars in his ears. He wants to feel as empty as he had, but instead he’s just got this new, nagging kind of ache in his chest, one that comes from making a massive, massive mistake, and knowing that it’s all his fault. “What the fuck just happened?” he groans, and he pulls his knees up to his chest and buries his face in his hands.

He only looks when he hears the door slide open again. Youngji is shoving a bewildered Mark forward. “I fucked up,” Jackson tells them, a bit miserably.

Mark throws himself down next to Jackson and tucks his head against his shoulder. “Yeah, probably,” he says. He holds out his half finished beer and wiggles it until Jackson takes it from him. “You tend to do that.”

“It’s okay,” Youngji tells him, folding her skirt underneath herself before she settles on his other side, reaching for his hand. “You’re also very good at apologies.” He looks down at her fingers laced through his, and tries not to think too hard about anything at all. This isn’t as comforting as he wants it to be. Youngji squeezes his hand tight. “You’re going to make this better, right?”

When he doesn’t answer immediately, Youngji digs her sharp little elbow into his side. “Yeah,” he says begrudgingly. “I will.” He just has _absolutely_ no idea how. 

Mark grips Jackson’s hand, folded around the beer bottle, and pulls it over so he can take a sip. “Atta boy,” he says, and okay, fine, Jackson feels a tiny bit better. Only a little.

 

 

This is stupid. 

Jackson peeks his head out from underneath his blankets and finds himself nose to nose with Little Dude. He’s big enough now to look over the edge of the bed, and right now, he’s turning up the puppydog eyes. Probably warranted, since it’s after noon and Jackson still hasn’t managed to get himself out of bed. “Go away,” he says firmly, and Little Dude wags his tail and licks at his mouth like a fifteen-year-old trying to get to first base.

Jackson sputters and shoves him away. “God, that’s disgusting.” He sits up reluctantly, wiping at his face with the back of his hand, and scowls at the dog. Little Dude settles back on his haunches, looking pleased with himself. Figures.

It still takes Jackson a while to drag himself out of bed. He’s not hungover or anything, unless you count hungover on life. He can’t stop thinking about last night, which mostly makes him feel vaguely nauseous and like the biggest idiot in the world. He reaches for his phone, a little afraid to check his messages, but when he turns it over, all there is is a couple of bossy ones from Youngji and the day’s indecipherable series of emojis from Joon. Someone really has to tell him how to use his phone.

Jackson drags on a ratty pair of sweatpants and shuffles outside, Little Dude dancing around his ankles. He’s gonna be disappointed, though, because before Jackson even dares brave the outside world, he’s gotta get some food in his belly.

When he pries open the fridge, he wrinkles up his nose, staring at the empty shelves. Of course. He glances at the front door. Nope. Not yet. He wonders if he can just spend the rest of his life in his apartment. He’d never run into Jaebum that way, at least. The dog bumps his nose into Jackson’s shin impatiently. “Sorry, buddy,” Jackson tells him. “I’ve decided to become a total hermit.” He drops to a crouch and scratches Little Dude behind both ears. “Hermits don’t have a social life to fuck up!” Little Dude sneezes sympathetically.

Jackson’s honestly kinda terrified to see Jaebum again, and a lot of it has to do with how he still hasn’t figured out what to say to him. Jackson’s really good at talking but not always at saying things, and this is one situation that he doesn’t want to make even worse. Jackson sighs and straightens, reaching for the treat jar and tossing one down to Little Dude. He deserves it for all his patience.

He turns back to the fridge and idly pokes through it until he comes up with some questionable looking old takeout and takes it over to the table. He halfway wishes that Yugyeomie didn’t have work today, because then he wouldn’t be left alone to turn last night over and over in his head until he was pretty much dizzy with how mad at himself he was. He’s got to admit, Jaebum had a point. Jackson had been so busy worrying about seeing Kangjoon again that he’d forgotten about what was important to him. And that’s Jaebum, now.

Which is scary enough on its own. For so long, Jackson’s world has, in one way or another, revolved around Kangjoon, whether it was their relationship or the aftermath, the missing him. It’s like, even after the feelings faded away, he just kept treading old ground. And it definitely wasn’t doing anyone any favours. 

The takeout tastes awful. Jackson decides to cut his losses and toss it out before he gives himself food poisoning because he’s feeling too sorry for himself. Little Dude is still right underfoot, craning his head to sniff at the paper container. “No way, buddy,” Jackson tells him, throwing it in the garbage can. “Not even you could stomach that. Your farts are already pretty potent.”

Little Dude’s ears flatten in disappointment, but they perk up again when he sees Jackson sliding his feet into his shoes and reaching for the leash. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jackson laughs. He has to straddle the dog and squeeze him with his shins to keep him still enough to put the leash on. “Jesus, you’d think you weren’t just out with Yugyeom like two hours ago.” Jackson’s kinda pleased, though. It kinda makes him feel like Little Dude is excited just ‘cause it’s him. It’s nice to have at least one completely uncomplicated relationship in his life.

It’s the only one, though. It’s just his goddamn luck that the minute he locks his door behind them, Jaebum’s door swings open. They both freeze for a minute, and Jackson fidgets with the leash so he doesn’t have to look in Jaebum’s direction. He’s worn out and his heart is pounding, but he can’t figure out how to make his mouth form the right words, so he doesn’t say anything. He’s too tired for the inevitable conversation right now anyway, or at least, that’s the line he’s feeding himself. 

He can’t stay there forever, and Little Dude is already pulling eagerly ahead, full steam towards Jaebum. Jackson reins him in as they pass, tugging hard on the leash. “C’mon, dude,” he mutters under his breath, but the puppy ignores him, using all the strength in his little furry body to lean out and try to sniff at Jaebum’s ankles. He’s whining, breath practically strangled by his collar. “Be cool, man.”

There’s a part of Jackson that’s hoping that maybe this would break the tension or ease this between them, but Jaebum’s face is stony and he busies himself with his phone, adamantly refusing to even look in Jackson’s direction. Yeah, that stings. 

He’s still gotta get this dog out for a walk, though. He keeps hauling on Little Dude’s leash, trying to make it to the elevator, and Little Dude plonks down stubbornly on the floor, alternating between wheezing in Jaebum’s direction and glaring back at Jackson. “What do you want from me?” Jackson asks tiredly, and Little Dude raises one leg to lick his ass. Jackson drops his face into his hand and groans.

It takes several long minutes for Jackson to finally goad Little Dude into giving up and getting into the elevator, and the whole time, Jaebum doesn’t say a word or even look at him. Jackson keeps shooting looks his way, a half-baked apology on the tip of his tongue, but in the end, he’s too much of a coward and Jaebum heads the other way, disappearing down the stairs. 

In the elevator, Little Dude sits heavily on Jackson’s feet, his ears and tail drooping. Jackson stoops to pet his head. “Me too, buddy,” he sighs. “Me too.”

 

 

It only takes Jackson a few days before he’s wound so tightly that he can barely breathe. He comes home from a long, exhausting shift, and as he’s walking past Jaebum’s door, he pauses to stare at it. He can still see the mark his keys left in the paint beside the handle, and it’s all just so frustrating.

He kicks off his shoes the minute he’s through the door to his place, throwing himself facedown on the couch and glaring at the wall. “Long day, hyung?” Yugyeom asks tentatively. 

Jackson is about to reply when he hears the click of nails on wood as Little Dude races towards him and then leaps on top of him, paws planted square into the small of Jackson’s back. It knocks all the breath out of him and he grunts. “Jesus,” he says. “Hello to you too.” He can feel Little Dude sway with the enthusiasm of his wagging tail.

He manages to push his face up and out of the couch cushion to reply to Yugyeom. “It’s fine,” he sighs, and Yugyeom frowns at him. “I’m just...thinking.” Little Dude takes a few unsteady steps across Jackson’s back before he settles, dropping down on top of Jackson’s lungs. Must be the most comfy spot. Jackson is possibly going to die. 

“About Kangjoon?” Yugyeom asks. Jackson can just catch a glimpse of Yugyeom’s concerned face from over the table. “I saw him, at the party the other day, and I know -”

“No,” Jackson sighs. “Not that.” He feels too wrung out to be upset about Kangjoon anymore. “Don’t worry about it.” He manages to wrestle his hand out from underneath his body and point a finger at Yugyeom. “Worry about how it’s your turn for dinner tonight.” He grins when Yugyeom whines and slides down in his chair, complaining about how Jackson cheated last time with takeout. Successfully distracted.

Too bad his own brain isn’t so easy. It doesn’t help that he lives only two doors down from Jaebum, and no matter how hard Jaebum tries, he still catches glimpses of him, heading towards the garbage chute or the elevator. It’d be one thing if this was just a one-night stand gone wrong, but this is unfinished business, and Jackson needs to figure out how to finish this.

He’s about defend his honour when he hears the sound of a door opening down the hall, and something kicks him into motion. “Hold that thought,” he tells Yugyeom, dislodging the dog in his rush to stand. “I have something I gotta do.”

When he pries open the door, he sees Jaebum down the hall, ready to slip into his apartment. “Jaebum.” he calls, and then Little Dude shoves out the door through his legs and bolts down the hall to him. “Man, hold on. I gotta talk to you.”

Jaebum’s lips tighten, but Little Dude is dancing at his feet, shaking with excitement and nipping at his fingers. His reasonable side must be winning out, because he turns to face Jackson for a moment. “What do you want?” he asks, and he sounds so tired and resigned. No matter how much Little Dude paws at his knees, he won’t bend down to pet him, and Jackson feels inexplicably upset by how confused and sad it’s making his puppy. “I have to meet Jinyoung in half an hour.”

“Just give me five,” Jackson begs, and something in Jaebum’s face softens. “Dude, I promise, that’s it. Please.”

After a second’s hesitation, Jaebum swings open the door, and Little Dude charges inside. Jackson follows him in as he hears Nora yowl and hopes that he’s not making everything worse.

Once inside, Jaebum doesn’t bother to look at him. Instead, he takes his time taking off his shoes and putting away his things, only pausing when Nora takes a flying leap off the kitchen counter to perch on his shoulder, far out of the dog’s reach. “You might as well start talking,” Jaebum says, pouring himself a glass of water. He doesn’t offer anything to Jackson.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson says immediately. He drags a hand through his hair and exhales. “I am really, really sorry. I fucked up, and I hurt you, and I’m sorry.” Jaebum hums, but doesn’t say anything, so Jackson plows on. “Dude, I just wanted to introduce you to my friends, and everything went all wrong.”

“Huh.” Jaebum tips his head, looking evenly at Jackson as he leans up against the counter. Nora takes this as her cue to step delicately off his shoulder. “Is that what it was? And not just, oh, I don’t know, inviting a date to make your ex jealous, and it backfiring wildly?”

It knocks the breath right out of Jackson. “What?” he says. “No! Man, I didn’t even know any of them would be there. Mark has no friends, I just figured it would be like, this nice quiet way to introduce you guys.” When Jaebum’s mouth twists, Jackson takes a step forward. “I swear,” he promises. “You’re pretty important to me, and they’re important to me, so I figured you should be like, important to me together. In the same room.”

“And insisting that I’m not your boyfriend, that was just an accident?” Jackson hates how sharp and raw Jaebum sounds. It makes his chest ache.

“Is that what we are? Were?” Jackson throws his hands in the air. “Man, we never talked about it. We never talked about any of that stuff.” He shakes his head, and his voice drops. “I’m still pretty confused, honestly, but I do know that I like you a lot.” He points down at Little Dude, sprawled at Jaebum’s feet and chewing on his socks. “And so does my dog.”

Jaebum rubs at his eyes. “So this is my fault?” he asks.

“Dude!” Jackson says. “That’s not what I’m saying.” Everything is coming out the wrong way. for a moment, he wishes that Jaebum was more like Mark. With him, Jackson doesn’t have to say much, but he totally gets it. He’s not used to this kind of thing, the two of them having to work to sync up. “I’m saying that it was a shitty night, but I never meant to make it shitty.”

Jaebum stares down at the glass in his hands, raises his eyebrows in disbelief, but he doesn’t say anything. Nora, on the other hand, yowls pointedly, jumping down to rub up against his shins and meow at him until he picks her up. Jackson decides to take it as a good omen. 

“Look,” he says. “Full disclosure: yeah, Kangjoon is my ex. He’s like, the big ex. That break-up fucking sucked for me, and it sucked for a long time.” Jaebum looks up, and he’s listening, so Jackson plows on. “And then Mark gave me a puppy, and it sucked less and less. And then I met you, and I didn’t think about it sucking anymore at all.” He takes a deep breath. “Seeing him with the new girlfriend was weird, but upsetting you, that’s what fucked up my night. And I don’t expect you to forgive me for it, but I’m still kinda hoping that you do.”

Jaebum looks at him for a very long time, and then he looks down at Little Dude, working determinedly at slobbering all over both of Jaebum’s socks. “Thank you,” he says after a moment, and Jackson’s heart leaps. “Thanks for apologizing. I appreciate it.”

Ah. “It’s like, the least I could do,” Jackson says, trying not to feel too crestfallen. He strokes Nora under the chin. When Jaebum doesn’t add anything on to that, Jackson clears his throat. “Uh, so, I guess I’ll just grab the dude and get out of here,” he says. “Wouldn’t wanna make you late or anything.”

“Jackson.” Jackson freezes, blinking at Jaebum hopefully. His heart does a fucking backflip at the slow smile spreading across Jaebum’s face. “Quit looking like a kicked puppy. It doesn’t suit you.”

Nora squirms out of Jackson’s arms, and he takes another step closer. “So,” he says hesitantly. “Are we like, cool?”

“We’re cool,” Jaebum agrees, and Jackson almost wants to drop to his knees, he’s so relieved. “But I think you owe me a new pair of socks.” He nudges Little Dude with a toe and the puppy peers up at him, pleased with himself, tongue hanging out.

“I owe you way more than that,” Jackson says fervently, and Jaebum snorts. There’s nothing better than how the hard tension in his face has melted into a kind of tired, fond resignation. It’s so much better than being frozen out.

Jaebum takes a step forward, pushing Jackson a little bit with his hand. “But I still need you to go,” he says regretfully, and his hand lingers for a second before it drops. “Jinyoung will kill me if I’m late.”

“I’ll text you?” Jackson suggests. He stoops to hoist Little Dude into his arms, and staggers. Holy shit, he is way too big for this now. The dog doesn’t think so, though, because he squirms around in Jackson’s grip, doing his best to thwap him in the face with his tail. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jaebum says. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “But no ugly selcas tonight. I’m not ready for it.”

Jackson grins at him. “None of my selcas are ugly,” he declares, and Jaebum snorts. “Have a good one, alright?”

“You too.”

When the door closes behind him, Jackson just stands for a moment, letting Little Dude chew on his shirt collar. “What do you think of that?” he asks the puppy, and Little Dude drags his tongue up from Jackson’s chin to his nose. It seems appropriate. 

 

 

Jaebum starts laughing the moment he sees Jackson. He actually stops in the middle of the sidewalk to throw his head back and howl. “This isn’t funny!” Jackson says indignantly. He pulls self-consciously at his shirt front and wonders for the umpteenth time if he should’ve just worn a snapback. “Dude, come on.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaebum says, one hand pressed to his chest as if he’s trying to slow his heart and gather himself. “You’re right. It’s not funny. You look very nice.”

Jackson would like to think that he does. It’s not even a fancy restaurant, but Jackson had gone all out, digging out one of the only nice shirts that he owns and even springing for a rose. Just one though. Those things are _expensive_. “Yes, I do,” he says. “So do you.” Teachers must have nice closets, because Jaebum looks great, like he just walked out of some fashion blog. As he approaches, Jackson reaches out tentatively to tug on Jaebum’s shirt. “We’re gonna be the envy of the whole joint.”

“I’m sure,” Jaebum says.

Jackson holds out the rose to him, and Jaebum smiles, taking it between his fingers. “This is sweet,” he says. “So this is how Jackson Wang woos a guy?” Before Jackson can even get indignant, he snaps off most of the stem and tucks the bloom into his buttonhole. Jackson feels pretty pleased with himself.

“Hey, you ain’t seen nothing yet, baby,” Jackson tells Jaebum, and Jaebum grins at him, rubbing a hand through Jackson’s short hair. “I even got us a reservation, dude. I’m on fire.”

After a moment, Jaebum slides his arm into Jackson’s. “That’s one way of putting it,” he says, and he laces their fingers together. The way he looks over at Jackson is a little bit hesitant, but about as hopeful as Jackson feels, and maybe that’s exactly how they should feel on a real first date anyway.

“Alright,” Jackson says. He looks up at Jaebum. “Let’s go do this. I’m about to knock your goddamn socks off.” 

He loves the way that Jaebum laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> if you're wondering, little dude is an american akita!! those guys are super fat n fluffy when they're babies


End file.
